Thorin's Saving Grace
by Lillianpost
Summary: She touched him as no one had before, and he would move heaven and earth to win her heart, but she is a warrior and doesn't understand love, so Thorin decides to teach her while they battle to reach Erebor and beyond. Thorin/OC with Bard and Legolas as competition.
1. Lost and Found

**Thorin's Saving Grace**

**Dedication**

_To my wonderful and passionate husband, Eric, who is the model for this story's Thorin. I thank him for graciously allowing me to adapt conversations and scenarios from our lives to make this love story, which we are still living out._

**Chapter 1 – Lost and Found**

The dwarves tensed as they waited in the cleft of the rocks. Orcs did not have keen hearing or sense of smell, but the wargs knew they were close. Finally, the orc leader shouted that the dwarves must have made it over the ridge, and the pack left at a run. The dwarves sagged in relief against the walls of the cave, but Thorin remained tense with his weapons ready. Too many battles had taught him that an unready warrior was a dead one. At last though, even Thorin knew that they were gone for the moment, and he allowed a minute easing of his broad shoulders.

"It is well that the hobbit decided not to come after all," Thorin thought, "he would never have made it this far. My people do not need the help in any case. We have paid overmuch for the faults of a few, but we will rise again on our own."

He fingered a fine gold chain around his neck and remembered for a moment the days when he was a prince and his people lived in magisterial splendor at Erebor, the dwarf kingdom carved out from within the Lonely Mountain in the north of Middle-earth.

Then from behind, far back in the cave, came a soft moan.

The dwarves wheeled about as one, scanning the dark cave, but their eyes were not yet accustomed to the dark.

"Wha-t was that?" Ori quavered, his young face frozen in fear.

"Silence," Thorin whispered fiercely, his hawk eyes finally spying a small shape lying on the ground against the back wall. Carefully they approached, and as they did a faint golden glow began to emanate from the bundle on the ground.

"It's not an orc," said Kili, "we would have smelled its stench. This smells like, smells like…" He trailed off, choking back a tear, embarrassed to say that the bundle smelled like the favorite pet he had had as a child. But if he had cared to voice his thoughts aloud he would have been surprised to find out that his fellow dwarves were all caught in the same moment thinking of the things they held most dear: a kingdom, loved ones, joints of roasted mutton, the sharp edge of an ax, a skirt or two, mugs of foaming ale, and a warm pair of socks.

"An elf," Thorin said finally in disgust, "just what we need, an injured elf."

"I think not," Gandalf said, coming up behind him, "too small, unless it's a child, but no child would be out here."

"Then what is it?" Fili asked, poking at the edges of the bundle with his scabbard.

Gandalf slowly rolled the bundle over and the cloth fell open. Against an iridescent robe lay long curling hair, gleaming as if gold had been drawn out into the finest filaments. The profile was beyond the beauty of elves, of any creature of Middle-earth. The skin was flawless, creamy gold, and thick golden lashes fell on high, curved cheekbones. Carefully, Gandalf turned the long neck to reveal a face of perfect proportions, a face not born but sculpted by a master hand that was marred only by an ugly bleeding gash above the left eyebrow. A single flashing jewel was set into the forehead and above was a circlet of brightly gleaming woven gold and iridescent jewels that had a star at its highest point.

"Well, well," said Gandalf, "who are you and what has brought you here?"

Thorin stared transfixed at the unearthly loveliness of the face before him.

"What are you?" he asked, half in thought. Gandalf slowly pulled the robe open.

"A young maiden it seems," said Gandalf with a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at Thorin.

A perfect swell of bosom was met by slim waist and shapely legs; however, it was not the soft body of human privilege, Thorin thought, but rather the perfect economy of a warrior whose every muscle and sinew was trained to work in seamless unison. If not the body then the armor she wore would have revealed her purpose.

"Gold! Gold armor!" said Balin, "so impractical!" The armor was perfectly cast to skim her body contours, but it also provided complete flexibility of movement. Each boot was of one piece and bent at the ankles like leather.

"No, not gold exactly," said Thorin, lightly touching the metal that cast patterns of light on the dark walls of the cave.

Instantly, a sound thrummed the air, the diamond-like jewel in her forehead flashed as if lit from within, the golden glow grew brighter, and the girl winced slightly. The bleeding slowed as the gash began to heal. The dwarves gasped.

"No! It's not possible," said Gandalf staring shocked at the girl before him. Thorin jerked his hand away.

"What Gandalf?" Thorin demanded. "What do you know? Do we have anything to fear here?"

"Nothing I know of," replied Gandalf, "nothing for sure." He paused. "Most unexpected," he said as he tugged on his grizzled beard.

Ori reached out a curious hand before his brother, Nori, slapped it away, but nothing happened.

"What's going on?" Ori asked. "Why isn't this working now?" The others also ventured a light touch. Nothing.

"I don't know," Gandalf said as he also reached out a hand to the girl. The golden glow grew dimly brighter but that was all.

"We can't leave her here in this state," he said turning to Thorin.

Unbidden by the others, Thorin drew closer, knelt in front of the girl, and touched the gash on her face. Instantly, the jewel in her forehead flashed like the sun, golden rays illuminated the cave, and the gash closed before their eyes. The girl sighed softly, and Thorin felt a warm hand on his other wrist.

Slowly, the girl opened her eyes. They were beautifully expressive and the color of lilacs. As they cleared she peered at Thorin's face and then pushed herself against the rocks. She gathered her robes around her and pulled her head far back into her hood. The dwarves could hear her panicked breaths as she curled up within herself. Thorin motioned for the dwarves to back away, and he carefully moved toward her.

"We will not harm you," he said slowly. She heard his deep, soothing tone and peeked around the edge of her hood. He offered her water from his flask and a bit of bread from Bombur's leather pouch, but she shook her head. Then he moved closer and put his hand on her wrist. She flung him off with surprising strength, but he reached out again and gently put his hand on her arm.

Finally, she pulled the hood down and looked into his face. She reached out with a golden arm and fingered the ends of his long hair. Then she touched her own. She moved closer and tried to touch his thick, dark eyebrows, but he jerked back with suspicion, and she immediately recoiled and looked at him with wide eyes.

Thorin scrutinized her carefully, and seeing the she meant him no harm, patted his eyebrow with his fingers. She slowly reached out her hand and traced his eyebrows and then found her own. He nodded his head and patted his cheek.

"What is she doing?" Dori asked. "It's like she doesn't know who she is."

Gandalf looked thoughtful. "Or what she is," he said.

Bolder now, the girl got on her knees and faced Thorin as she explored his face. Her hands were gentle, and each time she touched him he felt a frisson throughout his body. She lightly touched his eyes and eyelids; she explored the planes of his face, and ran her fingers down his cheeks. She felt for a mustache and beard on her face but was confused when she did not find them. Thorin shook his head and smiled. Then she ran her fingers through his long dark hair and down his braids to finger the silver tips. His eyes watched her closely. Pushing back his hair she found his ears and slowly traced their contours and then found her own. She looked into his eyes and smiled, and he was unaccountably pleased. Then she touched his neck, shoulders and chest and felt her own. She patted her swelling chest and looked at Thorin questioningly. He touched her hand, nodded, and smiled.

As he changed position, the hilt of his sword shifted into view. Immediately it caught her eye, and she shrunk back as she quickly took note of their weapons.

"Disarm," Thorin commanded. They all quickly obeyed, and her eyes showed her gratitude.

Then she took his hands in her own. He looked up quickly and stared into her eyes. Unable to look away, Thorin inhaled and images came into his mind of a grim purpose, fierce battle, blinding flash of light, the surprise of pain, and finally relief.

"Why do I look like this?" she asked him silently. "Why am I here?" He had no answers.

"I don't know," he thought to her. "Who are you?"

The girl stared at him and then brought her hand up to his face and gently cupped his cheek. She took a deep breath, and images began to move faster in his mind. He saw a multitude of blindingly bright warriors, and someone moved to stand in front of them. Too bright to see at first, the light diminished until he saw her form take shape. She stood in front of her kin with her chin held high. Her purity, her utter commitment to protecting life, and her simple joy in serving others moved him, and he looked at her with respect. Despite the fact that she was seriously injured and alone, her concern was for them, and that surprised him.

"You have need," she said to his mind.

He shook his head slightly, not understanding her. Then she smiled and compassion and peace flowed into his mind and heart. Sweat began to drip off his brow as he concentrated, unable to comprehend all that she was communicating.

Finally breaking off with a ragged cry, he fell against the wall of the cave.

"She's killing him!" Dwalin yelled and he snatched up his ax. The others grabbed their weapons.

"Hold!" shouted Thorin, breathing deeply as he struggled to his feet. "She did not try to hurt me." He paused, not sure if he was unable or unwilling to say what transpired.

Balin grabbed his arm and steadied him.

"I've known you for many a year, Thorin," he said, "and I've never seen that look on your face before. You looked, well, laddie, you looked stunned."

Thorin shook his head and looked carefully at her as if he did not trust his eyes.

"Thor-een," said the girl gently, "Thor-een." She struggled to form his name as though unused to speech, but her voice was melodic and soothing. "Thor-een Oak-eenshield." All eyes turned.

"Healing for healing," she said slowly, placing her hand on her thigh where none had noticed a large spreading burn where her armor was scorched. She smiled up at him and all felt their hearts swell, as if summer had come, the feast was prepared, and they had eaten their fill.

Thorin knelt again before her.

"What is your name?" he asked, his rich baritone soft.

She hesitated, as if still testing language on her tongue.

"I do not know," she said finally. "I only see images, but I remember little. You will have to give me a name for now." In spite of her pain, her eyes sparkled with intelligence and joy.

Thorin stood grimacing. He was a warrior not a poet and he was certain that any attempt would only lessen his dignity. He turned his back and thought on what she had tried to share with him. "Healing for healing," she had said, and that was what she had given him in those few seconds, a feeling of wholeness and of being loved—for the first time since he was a young boy and his mother was still alive. She had seen his fear and anger at being trapped by the orcs, but now his rage at his helplessness was gone—at least for the moment, he thought wryly—and what remained was his determination to see his kinsmen safe. But Healing would not suit. The others waited expectantly.

"Grace," he said finally. "Lady Grace."

"So be it, the Lady Grace," said Gandalf solemnly, his eyes betraying a glimmer of amusement.

Thorin's eyebrows raised a fraction at his impertinence but he said nothing.

"The Lady Grace!" The dwarves shouted. A howl answered them.

Thorin cursed their inattention.

"Guard the entrance and stand ready," he told Dwalin and Kili as they all quickly grabbed their weapons.

"Get behind me," he commanded the girl, holding out a protective arm, but before he could stop her, she slipped under his arm and ran outside. He grabbed at her cloak to stop her, only to have it fall before him.

Above ground, a pack of wargs and their riders circled around her.

"O-ho, what do we have here?" said the orc captain, a sharp-faced ruin of creation with uneven points of teeth and one frayed ear. "A dainty piece that's certain, not like the dwarf-scum we've been tracking. She'll be a nice mouthful but we'll still be hungry after, eh boys?" The others nodded greedily, eyeing her up and down.

"But that's not all they're good for, is it?" said another orc leering. "These kinds give a certain good sport I've heard."

Thorin lunged at the opening with a fierce growl, but some force kept them all unseen and unheard despite their efforts.

"Why can I not get through to her?" he cried to Gandalf. "What foul magic is this?"

Gandalf stroked his beard thoughtfully then tried his staff.

"No use," he said. "But not foul. Quite the contrary I suspect."

The girl stood her ground though Thorin alone could see that she wavered slightly as she favored her good leg, but her look was steely as she faced them down, the jewel in her forehead glittering with a cold brilliance.

You will not harm them," she said carefully. "Leave your evil here or your bodies." She seemed to be speaking to the wargs and their riders both.

The orcs snarled and moved in. A spear whistled by her ear, but she did not flinch. Reaching behind her back, she drew two jeweled transparent swords, and moving almost too quickly to be seen she neatly removed the orcs' heads from their shoulders. The dwarves and Gandalf stood speechless in amazement.

"Never have I seen such speed and, well, grace," Gandalf said. Two wargs were left standing.

"What is she doing?" Thorin asked as he saw the girl approach the snarling and snapping creatures. They were almost as large as horses and wolf-like with thick necks and ridges of hair running down their backs. Their oversized heads had blunt snouts as if they needed to be widened to make room for more teeth.

Staring them down, she raised her hand over them and closed her eyes. The wargs fell silent and twisted their necks as if to listen. Then they slunk closer to her, dipping their heads, and at that moment the dwarves fell forward as if an invisible wall was suddenly removed.

"No!" shouted Thorin as he ran toward her, but she held up her hand.

"Peace, Thorin," she said. Then she winced in pain, and stepping forward, she fell into Thorin's arms as the wargs ran off.

"Why?" he whispered as his arms tightened around her, "why did you face them alone?" A ghost of a smile played around her lips as she touched his cheek.

"Does your pride mean so much that you would have died for it, Thorin?" she asked as her eyes fluttered shut and her head fell against his neck.

"No, not for pride, my lady," he said, closing his eyes against the surge of relief he felt as her breath touched the corner of his mouth, "at one time gladly, but not anymore."

Gandalf suggested that they head to Rivendell through a secret passageway he showed them, but Thorin argued angrily that he would never ask for help from those who had failed his people.

"They are not the enemy, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf said, "and besides, Lady Grace is wounded and we do not have the means to heal her."

With that argument, Thorin pressed his lips together tightly and nodded.

* * *

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	2. On to Rivendell

**Chapter 2: On to Rivendell**

Though the journey to Rivendell was more than two miles away on foot, Thorin allowed no one else to tend to her, and he himself carried her all the way to the House of Elrond. She woke once and touched his mouth.

"Thorin," she said quietly. Then her head fell back against his arms. She did not regain consciousness again.

He looked down at her and felt an unfamiliar twisting of his heart. He recalled what she had done for them, how she took on an entire Orc pack without fear, and he remembered her standing confidently with her kin.

"She is a true warrior," he thought with admiration, his lip curling at the unlikely notion that this most beautiful of women was a fighter like himself and in his arms. Then he looked down at her again and saw that she was growing paler. He quickened his step and grew more anxious and short-tempered as they walked, and offers of help from the others were met with stony silence.

"Surely, the others can carry her, Thorin," said Balin kindly, "you don't need to be burdened with..."

"Burden? Burden?" thundered Thorin, his gray eyes flashing. "She is…." He did not finish his thought. He did not need to. He stopped, and looking into the faces of his kinsmen he saw their affection and concern.

"It is no effort," he said, tightly controlling his irritation, "she is light and we are almost to the gate."

Shortly after, they arrived at Rivendell. Having been summoned by Lindir the chamberlain, Lord Elrond, with his robes sweeping about him, greeted Gandalf with warmth and the dwarves with great civility.

"My Lord Elrond," said Gandalf rubbing his bushy eyebrows, "we come for counsel for we have a bit of a mystery." He inclined his head toward Thorin.

"We do not need counsel, Gandalf," Thorin said, gritting his teeth. "_She_ needs help!"

"She?" Lord Elrond asked bemused. "Bring her inside. The day is waning."

The tall elf lord and Gandalf exchanged glances over Thorin's head as they watched him lay her on a silken couch with great care, making sure that her cloak revealed nothing about her appearance or identity.

"I want it clearly understood that she owes nothing to any of us and that she be accorded the respect and honor she has earned," Thorin declared, challenging Lord Elrond with his eyes and protective stance.

"And so she will be, Thorin," Lord Elrond said with gravity, "as would _any_ who come in peace to my house, but I must be allowed to see her if I am to help her."

Thorin grudgingly stood aside as Elrond carefully drew back her cloak. The Elf lord gasped at her matchless beauty and regal bearing.

"Her armor," he said with wonder, "not gold, but the light of the wearer."

"Is she of any of your people?" Gandalf asked. Lord Elrond shook his head and stood unmoving. Gandalf hesitated and then ventured, "Could this be a trick of Sauron's? Could she be evil in disguise?"

"No," Lord Elrond said thoughtfully, "from what you tell me she stood alone against the orcs and was willing to give her life to save you. Evil is not selfless."

No one said anything for several long moments. Fili stifled a belch.

Gandalf then lowered his voice. "Is she from the Undying Lands?" he asked.

"No, but there are legends," Lord Elrond said slowly, never taking his eyes off of Lady Grace. "I cannot be sure. Only a few can still recall them in their entirety. But if I am right, she cannot be healed by any art we possess."

"Thorin healed her," Ori said, wiping his nose and hitching his thumbs into his pant loops.

"Yes," said Balin, turning to Thorin with reverence and pride. "Our Thorin did heal her, when we first found her in the cave."

Lord Elrond looked to Gandalf in surprise.

"That's not possible," he said. "If the legends are true then her kind…."

"Her kind?" Thorin demanded as he angrily paced in front of Lady Grace. "What kind? You all talk in half-sentences, never finishing a thought, and not one of you seems to care that she needs our help!"

"In that case, what did you do to help her then when you first found her?" Lord Elrond asked.

Thorin stopped pacing and scowled slightly.

"I didn't mean to help her," Thorin said reluctantly, "I thought she was an elf."

"But you did help her," said a smooth voice from the doorway. Lady Galadriel exchanged glances with Elrond before entering quietly into the room and gazing intently at the motionless form on the couch, her ageless face thoughtful.

"What was happening and what were you thinking before you found her?" she asked.

Thorin rubbed the furrow in his brow at this turn of conversation.

"We were caught out in the open by orcs and had taken refuge in a cleft in the rocks," he said. "I was thinking that we would have to fight our way out, and I, I…." He trailed off, unwilling to share his private thoughts with those he distrusted.

"And you?" Lady Galadriel prompted. "Please, Thorin of Durin's House. I ask for a grave purpose. Your answers may help her."

Lord Elrond's eyes opened wide as he turned toward Galadriel with a look of dawning comprehension. The pale blond Elf queen stood quietly in her white robes as she waited for Thorin to answer.

"I will know by what happens next," she said silently to both Elrond and Gandalf.

Thorin looked at Lady Grace's lovely face and was decided. Squaring his shoulders, he told them of their quest to reclaim Erebor, of his desire to see his people restored, and of his concerns for his kinsmen when they were trapped in the cleft.

"Concerns, Thorin?" probed Galadriel gently.

"Fear," he said, facing her boldly and ignoring the shocked looks of the other dwarves. "I am responsible for my nephews and my kinsmen, and I could not bear what would happen to them at the hands of those monsters if I failed them. I alone am responsible for the House of Durin, and I _will_ see it prevail. All of it! Even at the cost of my _life!_"

Satisfied, Galadriel turned to Lady Grace.

"Now touch her where she is injured, Thorin," she said, "and I believe that some of your concerns, at least for the present, will be eased."

Sitting carefully next to the girl, Thorin closed his eyes tightly, bent his head over her, and then placed his hands carefully near the burn. Slowly but with increasing intensity the jewel began to glow, and a golden light flooded the chamber. Light streamed through the windows and lit the delicately sculptured courtyard below. The dwarves laughed and clapped each other on the back. Gandalf leaned forward on his staff and looked on with intense concentration. The elves watched carefully, and Thorin did not move until a gentle hand began to stroke his dark hair and the side of his face. He lifted his chin to see her eyes smiling into his, and he could not help exhaling with relief.

"Thorin, Thorin," said Lady Grace, her musical voice alive with sweet understanding. "I am again in your debt." He caught her hands in his.

"No, my lady, I and my kinsmen are forever in _your_ debt." Then realizing that the others were doubtless watching, he cleared his voice, quickly stood, and looked questioningly at the elves.

"A Therian," Galadriel said seriously. "There is no other answer."

"A whatian?" Ori asked. Balin quickly jabbed his side.

"A Therian," Galadriel repeated.

"A Therian," Lord Elrond whispered, his voice filled with awe. "How can it be possible? A creature of pure light!"

"You mean that's not a woman?" Ori asked in confusion. The dwarves looked again at her perfect form. "She sure looks like a woman."

"Shut up Ori," Dwalin said. "What do you know of women?"

"I have a good idea what they look like," he said stoutly.

"And let's leave it at that," Balin said.

Thorin shook his head impatiently.

"I don't understand," he said. "How can she be made of light? He glanced back at Lady Grace who had closed her eyes again but this time in peaceful sleep, a little smile on her lips.

"Where is she from?" he asked impatiently. "Is she out of danger? I need"—he cleared his throat—"I want answers, and I'll have them now!"

A knock came at the door.

"My Lord Elrond," Lindir said, "many of your people have felt an unfamiliar stir and have come to enquire if all is well within."

"All is well, indeed," Lord Elrond said. "At least for the present," he added under his breath. Then he turned to the others.

"All who would hear and understand come with me." He led them to a nearby antechamber. Thorin placed his hand on Balin's shoulder and nodded to Fili and Kili, and then turning to the other dwarves he motioned for them to stay behind.

"She needs your protection," he said as he looked hard into each face. "I'll have your solemn oaths on this. If she wakes again you _will_ come and get me." They nodded quickly, standing as tall as possible at attention. Satisfied for the moment, but still uneasy to leave, Thorin turned and followed the others.

Once all had gathered, Lord Elrond shut the door and bolted the lock.

"No one outside will be able to hear or see what transpires in this room no matter what gifts as long as the door is locked," he said. He looked at Galadriel and motioned for her to speak first.

"The young woman that you have found is a Therian, a creature that until now no one has ever seen before for any length of time or been proven to exist," she said carefully. "Legends and stories have been told of their existence but they were dismissed as fact long ago and are now only the fables children hear."

"Yes, but what _are_ they?" Thorin said raking his hands through his hair. "She's not a creature of light. She's real. I have touched her. She's spoken to me! She…." Thorin waved a hand in the air aimlessly and rubbed his forehead, trying to summon the images she thought into his mind.

Lord Elrond raised his eyebrows in interest, but Galadriel spoke first.

"I would know all that she communicated to you, Thorin," she said, "but I will answer your question. Do you know why orcs are so hideous and loathsome?"

Thorin immediately thought of the origin of their connection with corrupted elves but decided to hold his tongue.

"Because they do evil," he said instead.

Galadriel's lips twisted as she considered his words.

"To some degree, yes, but mostly because they _are_ evil," she said. "Their deeds scar and twist their bodies, but their appearance reveals the evil within. With men one cannot always tell, but legend has it that Therians are completely good, and in the same way their magnificent form reflects the heart within, but they are so pure as to be beyond physical form in the realm they inhabit. Legend has it that a Therian has to be injured to assume a completely physical form, as she was in the cave where you found her."

"But why did she become a woman and not a man?" Thorin asked intently, "and why was I the only one able to help her?"

Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel glanced at Gandalf.

"How much of his own heart can we reveal to him?" Gandalf asked silently. "He is proud and stubborn as all dwarves are, but I would not like to see him distracted when such a vital quest lies before him. This is a complication that none of us has foreseen, and I don't know how to counsel him."

Galadriel nodded slightly and turned to Thorin.

"She assumed the form that was most consistent with her natural self," she said, "and you may have noticed that she did not accept food or drink." He nodded. "We believe that Therians live off of the service they give to others."

"What?" asked Fili. "No food at all? That's not natural, that is."

"Maybe they don't have food where she comes from," Kili said.

"Well, I'm not going there then, that's for certain," Fili said. Their chuckling died away with a stern glance from Thorin.

"They are unselfish beings," Galadriel continued. "They respond to nobility of heart, commitment of purpose, and passion. Thorin, you of all your company possess those qualities together in greatest measure. You also know that you of all your people have suffered the greatest pain. It seems as well now that Therians instinctively respond where they can do the most good."

"Healing for healing," Thorin muttered under his breath.

"Exactly so," Lord Elrond said. "We only know of them from stories of lights and golden glows that surround events of great good or selfless sacrifice and rare sightings of beings so magnificent and bright that men have fallen to the ground in awe. Those very few who have encountered them spoke of being touched by perfect peace and joy, an experience that changed them forever. No one in living memory has ever seen one…."

"Until now," Thorin said.

"Until now," agreed Elrond.

In the other room, Lady Grace began to stir. Her dreams at first had been pleasant but were now turning dark and troubled. Images of a fall, pain, and a creeping evil made her clutch her throat, gasping for air.

"Dori, get Thorin now!" Nori cried. Dori ran to the door and pounded in a panic.

From inside the room Thorin heard her cries, and he threw the door open and hastened to her side while commanding the dwarves to leave the room.

"My lady, my lady," he said, taking off his fur and leather cloak and wrapping it around her shivering body. He sat next her and said, "All is well. You are safe and those here are sworn to protect you." He looked over the top of her head to stare at Gandalf and the elves, daring them to contradict him.

"I swear to protect you," he whispered.

As Thorin felt her shaking arms reach for him, his throat grew tight. He held her until her shivering stopped and her breathing became regular again. He then stood and faced the others.

"I will stay watch over her tonight," he said, raising his hand to silence the protests of his kinsmen at the door. "Choose an attendant, Lord Elrond, if you wish, but I will not leave her again until morning."

"A very great complication indeed," Gandalf said soberly.


	3. Decisions and Destiny

**Chapter 3: Decisions and Destiny**

Several attendants and Lady Galadriel helped Lady Grace out of her armor, which became a sheer golden fabric when off of her body, and into a shimmering white gown. Before they left, she questioned them about her appearance and its significance and where she was. Many minutes passed before she was ready to sleep. Meanwhile, Thorin paced outside the room while Gandalf looked on in amusement and concern.

"Nothing is going to happen, Thorin, and you're wearing a groove into the floor," Gandalf said. "You'd best go to bed with the others. I can sit outside until she is asleep."

"And then what, Gandalf?" he demanded. "You saw what happened while she slept. She's been through more than 100 warriors today. She risked her life for us. I owe her some peace tonight, Gandalf. Some of the peace she has given me," he finished under his breath.

"Gratitude?" asked Gandalf, "is that all?"

Thorin eyed him for a moment.

"It is enough," he said gruffly.

Throughout the night Thorin sat leaning forward in a chair, his eyes intent on Lady Grace's face. From time to time an attendant would come, observe her, and then depart. The dwarves had long since feasted and gone to bed. Even Gandalf was snoring in the corridor outside, and still Thorin watched her sleep, his eyes memorizing her profile, alert to any sign of distress.

In the dark of night, he recalled events in his life, the loss of his mother and sister, and the death of his grandfather the king, and the disappearance and likely death of his father. He remembered his training for duty and service and how his entire life was destroyed by that blasted dragon. Still, he worked for more than 60 years to reestablish his people in the Blue Mountains, a prosperous life to be sure but far removed from the grandeur of Erebor. Then he thought about his quest to reclaim his homeland and the trials they had faced so far—up to his meeting of Lady Grace. He gazed at her and he thought about what he saw in her mind with her standing alongside her kin arrayed for battle with her chin held high, and suddenly he imagined himself standing next to her. With that thought he bolted upright and nearly fell off his chair as it tilted sideways.

An attendant opened the door with some refreshments.

"Is all well Prince Thorin?" she asked quietly. "I heard some noises."

Thorin blinked and shook his head to clear his mind.

The attendant looked at him closely.

"Prince Thorin?" she asked again.

Thorin's eyes cleared as he looked at her.

"Ah, yes, um," he said, "all is well. She is still sleeping."

The attendant put a small tray down near him.

"From Lord Elrond," she said.

Thorin nodded his thanks, and the attendant softly closed the door. Then he turned to stare again at Lady Grace.

"We are alike, you and I," he thought. "At this moment we are both without homes and separated from our lives and heart's desire. I wonder if you know where your home is and how to get back."

He thought again of him standing next to her and dismissed it with a snort. Then he imagined her turning to him and smiling and him laughing with delight, pulling her close, and kissing her. He blinked again several times and rubbed his forehead, scoffing at himself.

"I must be more tired than I thought," he said to himself, "because my mind is wandering. It has been a long and strange day indeed, but I must stay alert."

Then he thought more on what they shared in the cave. Images began to separate and stand out. A grim purpose, he thought, to fight an evil greater than Sauron. A battle where now he could see many like Lady Grace arrayed in light, moving in unison at first until she was singled out. He felt her surprise at pain and her agony as she fell, more frightened at the separation from her people than for concern for herself. He felt her fear and disorientation in the cave and relief when he touched her face.

"Almost anyone would have been a relief," he muttered aloud to himself. "It was just her bad fortune to find an angry, hairy dwarf."

He looked up to find her regarding him quietly.

"Do you think so low of yourself, Thorin?" she asked.

"My people are low, my lady," he said heavily, "We are born low, we grow up low, and as you have seen compared to others, we will always be low."

She laughed lightly at his unintended jest.

"You do not seem so very low to me, Thorin," she said.

"Indeed, I am much taller than most other dwarves," he said, and he sat up as straight as he could in his chair. "More than five feet tall as some reckon, but we are still a small race, small and now insignificant to most."

"I am not taller than you," she said, "and that is not what I see in any case," she said. "I see nobility, loyalty, honesty, and courage. Those surely must elevate anyone who possesses them."

Thorin exhaled.

"I am told, my lady, that you always see the good in others if there is any, so I am honored by your words, but I am sure that you would say similar comforting sentiments to anyone who was in your company," he said bitterly.

"I do not idly flatter," she said softly, "I only speak of what I see to be the truth."

His brooding eyes rested on her face. He saw her sincerity but remained unmoved.

"Come here please, Thorin," she said.

He reluctantly drew his chair beside her bed but would not look at her. With a soft but firm hand she touched his chin and looked into his eyes.

"I would have you understand my heart," she said.

She placed her hand on the side of his face and he covered her hand with his own. He closed his eyes and saw a light growing in his mind. The light was warm, soft, and welcoming, and he relaxed against her palm.

"Lady Galadriel explained what they know about why I am here and in this form," she said silently, "and tomorrow I will try to find a way to go home. In the meantime, though, I want to know more about your people and your home."

Thorin stiffened and turned away.

"I am a dwarf, and my people have no home anymore," he said harshly. "It was stolen from us."

With a look of concern, she sat up in bed and took his hands in hers.

"I am so very sorry," she thought to him. "I understand a little of what you feel, for I have lost my home as well," and placing her fingers on his temples, she smiled into his eyes as she soothed his pain.

"Can you read all my thoughts and feelings?" he asked her silently. She tilted her head.

"I will only see and hear what you wish me too, Thorin," she replied. "I will not betray your privacy by probing, although if you are in pain or in need I will help as best I can."

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Thorin basked in her compassion. He felt hope and joy and a love so rich that all his defenses dissolved. She saw his fierce love of his people, his pain at the loss of his homeland, and his need to reclaim what he felt was rightfully his without judgment and with great sympathy.

He thought back to all his years toiling at the forges of men and grimly replaying the loss of Erebor in his mind, but now with her help he thought with satisfaction on the resiliency of his people and their deepened commitment to each other and their kin. He sat back and stared at her in wonder and touched her hand.

"How are you doing this?" he asked her silently as she eased the bitterness in his heart. "How can you love this way? Even in our tragedy you find the good. I see now that the legends about your people are true." He looked away and then stood up and raked his hands through his hair. He turned his back to her and put his fist to his mouth as he stepped away. He knew what he felt, and it scared him.

"Are you well, Thorin?" she asked worriedly. "Did I harm you?" She got out of bed and gently put her hand on his back. He turned and looked at her hungrily as if starving for something he never knew he needed. He had never felt so much for a woman before, and he tried to push away the desire that gripped him, but it was too strong. He took her hands and held them to his chest.

"If you could not find a way home," he thought to her, "if you are forced to stay, would you stay with me?" he asked.

Her mind pondered the question. "I do not understand," she said.

"If you are not able to go home," he said urgently, "will you stay with me? I swear I will take care of you always."

She pulled her hands away and stared into his eyes, which shone with fragile hope.

"You are asking me to choose one above others?" she said aloud as she backed away. "That is not our way."

Thorin stepped closer to her.

"Have you never pledged yourself?" he asked. "I remember the images, I know that you have, but they are gone and you are here. Could you not do the same with me?"

"Why?" she asked, "for what purpose?" Thorin's brow furrowed as he thought.

"Because sometimes two can do greater good than one alone," he said finally, looking deep in her eyes.

She looked askance. "How does one do that here?" she asked.

Thorin held the image of him kissing her in his mind and very carefully he moved closer to her. He could not help himself.

"Close your eyes," he said, "and trust me." He leaned in and gently held her face in his hands.

She closed her eyes and waited patiently. He tipped back her head and gently pressed a kiss into the corner of her mouth. Instantly he felt an overwhelming jolt of energy and his knees buckled. A wave of passion surged through him, and she grabbed him and hugged him to keep him from falling.

"Thorin! Thorin!" she cried softly. "What has happened?"

She held him as he trembled and felt his heart thundering in his chest. His strong arms went about her, and he held her tightly as he shook with emotion. The immediate and overwhelming swell of need and desire for her stunned him, and he could focus only on breathing. She helped him slowly back to his chair where he sat down heavily and laid his head on his arms.

"Should I call for help?" she asked as she got down on her knees before him.

"No!" he said embarrassed as he struggled to catch his breath. "No. I just need some time." He collected himself as best as he was able and then slowly pulled her up to stand with him.

"Please," he said hoarsely, "please stay, stay with me." He watched her apprehensively, his eyes searching hers.

Conflicting emotions crossed her face, but at last she smiled, and a golden glow enveloped them both.

"I cannot see or promise the future, Thorin," she said, "but I will not leave you until we have done the greater good together. I will help you get your people home."

A smile lit his fiercely handsome face.

"That is enough for now," he said. He gazed at her and his breathing grew more rapid, and she saw his heart thudding in his chest. She moved to touch him and he quickly backed away flustered.

"I need to leave now," he said. "I have kept you up when you should be sleeping." He tried to strike a more princely posture, but his shoulders dropped as he looked at her in her gown, and he bit his lip hard.

Just then an attendant quietly opened the door.

"I must go," he said and left quickly. He put his hand on the back of the closed door, bent his head, and groaned softly as he replayed the images now firmly fixed in his mind.

He turned to find Gandalf regarding him soberly from his chair.

"How does my lady?" he asked carefully.

"She does very well," Thorin replied, refusing to acknowledge the lift of Gandalf's brows.

"I know that you don't want my advice at present, Thorin," Gandalf said, "but still I advise you to be careful. This is not her home, and her presence here may bring unknown dangers. She needs to return as soon as possible."

"That's not your decision!" Thorin bit out.

"No," said Gandalf quietly, "but it's not yours either."

"You have no right…" Thorin began angrily, but Gandalf raised his hand.

"I'm not your enemy, Thorin," he said, "but I _will_ remind you of your duty. You are the leader of your people and your first and _only _responsibility is to them. They need you, Thorin, there is no other."

Thorin turned his back on Gandalf and bowing his head, he rested his hand on the doorframe. He knew the truth of what Gandalf said, but he could not accept it. His need for Grace was now in his blood and every instinct, every drive, every beat of his heart urged him forward to claim her.

"But Grace," he said softly.

Gandalf took a deep breath.

"Yes, the _Lady_ Grace," he said mildly. "I have no quarrel with her as well. She is all that is lovely, but she is not of our world and must go home. Surely, you can see that there is no future for her here, Thorin. She is dazzling, of course, but she is a distraction to your purpose. You only met her hours ago. Are you really going to divide your loyalties now after all your people have been through?

Thorin said nothing while his chest heaved with painful breaths. Finally, he stilled and looking over his shoulder he said softly in his deep timbre, "Thank you, Gandalf, for reminding me of who I am. For a moment I forgot myself." Then he left.

Gandalf exhaled, smiled to himself, and then shook his head.

"I need a drink," he said.

Thorin strode through the corridor, down the stairs, and past the open courtyard. He did not see the delicate arches or intricately designed gardens. He walked until he found a secluded glen with two large trees about 20 feet about, and he paced between them.

"I am a king," he said aloud. "I will be a king, and I have to duty to my people, _my people_," he emphasized. Then he stopped and groaned, "Grace, Grace, why did you come?" He paced again thinking of the purity of her heart, her lovely face and shining eyes, more brilliant than any amethyst. He recalled the swell of her curves and her delicately muscled body, and a potent dose of desire raced through him.

"I am undone!" he cried to no one. He stopped and raked his hands through his hair.

"Am I never to be happy?" he cried softly to the air. "Is my life to be nothing more than duty?"

He cursed himself for kissing her and not pulling back from the brink when he could, and he grew angry that she was lovely in every way that moved him. It was almost as if she had been made for him, he thought, but now he could not dare to hope of a life with her.

"I will go back to what I was," he said to himself. "I will not let my people down." But even as he said that he knew there was no going back. He would never be the same, and in giving her up he knew that he would succumb to the wasting despair that cursed all dwarf men who failed to win their beloved.

He paced again for a time, deep in thought, his brow furrowed.

"My happiness must be in the prosperity of my people," he finally decided, trying desperately to deny the growing hunger and pain he felt. "That will be enough. It will _have_ to be enough." Then he leaned on the trunk of one of the trees and dropped his forehead on his arm. A groan broke away from him as he cried, "Grace, Grace, the _life_ I could have had!"


	4. Change of Plans

**Chapter 4: Change of Plans**

The next morning the dwarves found themselves in a fine mood after a night of feasting and noisy slumber, but Thorin fidgeted at the table, dreading to see Grace again. All had gathered to partake of a morning meal, but she had yet to appear, and since the dwarves were hungry, Lord Elrond permitted the group to start without her.

"This is the best beef I've ever had," said Kili, waving a thigh bone, a fleck of meat on his chin.

"Mmmph, mmmph," agreed Dwalin, who had eaten a rack of ribs in one bite and was now spitting out the bones in a circular pattern on the table.

"Where do you think the elves get it all from?" asked Bofur, gesturing at them with a slab of bacon, "you know, with them being so picky."

"Do you really care, Bofur?" Kili asked.

"No!" he shouted, and they all laughed and slapped their thighs with greasy hands.

Thorin stared unseeing at his plate. He ate but had no notion of what it was, and he choked it down. Seeing that Grace had yet to arrive, he motioned to an attendant.

"Is she well?" he asked her tonelessly.

"Indeed Prince Thorin," the attendant replied, "but she is unused to our ways and had many questions. Lady Grace will be here in due time." Then a breeze of warm summer filled the cool spring air and she appeared.

The dwarves sat stunned for a moment and then leapt to their feet as she approached while Gandalf threw a warning look to Lord Elrond as they also rose to greet her. Thorin braced himself and turned as well, his heart constricting painfully. She wore a light pink gown of sparkling gossamer that modestly but stunningly revealed her form, and her hair radiated light as it curled in coils around her smiling face. A slim diamond necklace encircled her delicate throat, and she walked gracefully down the stairs. Thorin looked at her and despaired.

"The queen I might have had," he thought.

"Thorin," Lord Elrond said, "will you please escort the Lady Grace to her seat beside you." He nodded stiffly and drawing himself up to his full height, he approached Lady Grace, formally bowed, and took her hand to lead her to the table.

"What is wrong, Thorin?" Grace thought to him.

"Nothing," he replied aloud as he stared straight ahead. "You are very lovely this morning." He sat her beside him and trained his eyes on his plate.

"You are most welcome here, my Lady," Lord Elrond said graciously, "and may I say how relieved we are that you are well again."

"I am happy to be here," she replied, "and I thank you sincerely for your hospitality. I am very grateful." The jewel in her forehead sparkled warmly. Grace acknowledged the company, exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, and then looked questioningly at Thorin.

Seeing that he would not look at her, she reached for his hand under the table. He started for a moment but did not move. Lady Galadriel noticed their exchange and then looked at Gandalf smiling smugly.

"Mithrandir, what have you done?" she asked him quietly.

"Nothing," he replied while happily buttering a roll. "I just reminded Thorin who he is that's all," and he popped a piece of bread in his mouth. Galadriel's thoughtful gaze returned to Thorin and Grace.

"You must tell me. What is the matter?" Grace thought to him.

"I told you, nothing," he said silently while still looking down. "All is well. I just forgot who I was for a moment and lost my head." He shook his head in frustration. "I am a fool," he thought to her, "Please forget everything I said last night. I will be a king, and it is time I begin acting like one."

"In what way have you not?" she asked him.

"I let my feelings get the best of me," he said as he clenched his jaw, "and it was wrong. My people are my only priority, and you, you are a distraction."

"How have I been a distraction?" she asked innocently.

Finally, he turned to face her.

"By Erebor," he whispered urgently in his deep voice, "Can you not see what you do to me? I hunger for you. I hunger for you in the way a man hungers for a woman. I cannot look at you without wanting to take you in my arms, and I would overcome any obstacle to keep you with me," he finished fiercely.

"I can heal your pain, Thorin," she said quietly, looking at him in concern.

"But you don't understand it, do you?" he asked stiffly. "You _see_ it, but you don't _feel_ it."

"No, I do not understand it, but I will stay with you," she said in confusion. "I promised."

"I release you from your promise," he said to her. "My duty is to my people."

Grace turned away and thought for a moment with her head bowed. Thorin felt her loss keenly and steeled his heart. Lady Galadriel appraised their exchange, watching the flicker of emotions pass over their faces before they started talking aloud.

"They can communicate without words," she thought to herself, "how extraordinary and how _intimate_."

Meanwhile, the dwarves had engaged the elves on the unlikely subject of art.

"Your paintings are all very fine, we mean no disrespect," Balin said, "But the sculptures of the dwarves now, those are renowned."

"Not to mention our stone gardens," Ori said.

"And our stone lattice work," Dori said.

Gandalf happily picked through a basket for another roll to butter.

"What do you think, Thorin?" Lord Elrond asked.

Thorin looked up in confusion.

"Oh yes, of course," he said absently. The others shrugged their shoulders and went back into the fray while Galadriel's eyebrow arched in amusement.

Grace reached again for Thorin's hand and held it firmly when he tried to pull back. He looked away slightly shaking his head.

"You said you are to be a king and that a king is to think only of the good of his people, yes?" she asked turning to him.

Looking down, Thorin nodded.

"In that case," she reasoned, "you also said that together we could do the greater good than you alone. Would not a king who cares for his people want the _greater_ good?"

Thorin looked up in surprise to meet her triumphant face. Slowly, he started to smile.

"Thorin," she said aloud. "I _want_ to go with you." The small smile grew into a broad grin that lit his eyes.

"And of course," Balin interjected, "there's our most famous work of the great dwarf queen, Reglia the Rank."

With undignified abandon, Thorin threw back his head and let out a rich, joyful laugh that rang throughout the courtyard. The dwarves joined in with raucous glee, and Gandalf dropped his buttered roll on the ground.

While the dwarves next tried to best each other with colorful names for their most famous artworks, Thorin brought Grace's hands to his lips and kissed them.

"Words fail," he thought to her. "Your beauty inside and out humbles me." Grace laughed, and the bare trees that ringed the open courtyard turned greener.

The dwarves noticed Thorin's fascination with Grace and smirked among themselves.

"I've never noticed uncle even looking at a woman," Fili said.

"Even though more than a few have made it clear over the years that he could take whatever he wanted," Kili said wagging his eyebrows.

"Well, if it would take someone very special to catch his eye, I think we all can agree that it would be her," Balin said. The dwarves all nodded and without Thorin's notice raised their mugs to her.

Attendants brought out more plates of food, and the dwarves continued to eat with gusto while the elves at the far other end were relieved to turn their attention to elaborate platters of fruit, vegetables, and sweetmeats.

Gandalf leaned close to Lord Elrond.

"Do you think it wise to have her out in view, Lord Elrond?" he asked sourly. "Your people are more used to beauty and purity of spirit, but there may be other visitors to Rivendell who are less able to control their impulses."

"Do you think any of the dwarves would approach her?" Lord Elrond asked with an amused smile.

"No," Gandalf said with exasperation, "of course not. Their love and loyalty for Thorin put her out of reach, and Thorin, well, that's another discussion we must have, but her beauty and gifts may attract the less virtuous. We must consider the consequences of her being here."

"We will discuss this later, Gandalf," Lord Elrond said. Then turning to Thorin with a twinkle in his eye, he called out, "Thorin, is the food not to your liking? We can prepare something else if you prefer."

Thorin tore his eyes away from his lady.

"Not at all, Lord Elrond," he said hastily, "the food is superb."

Gandalf rolled his eyes and sighed.

Then Lady Galadriel lightly touched his hand.

"Your concerns are valid," she said quietly, "but it is well to see Thorin contented at this moment. You know how much he has had to endure."

Gandalf thought back to the ruined dwarf kingdom, the murder of his grandfather and disappearance of his father, the scattering of his people, and his years working at the forge to provide for his kin.

"Perhaps I was being too hasty," he said heavily. "Dwarves are easily dazzled by jewels, and she certainly is the brightest, but their passions are quick, and soon his fascination will fade. Bah, I'm an old man to be irritated by infatuation."

Lady Galadriel laughed.

"Perhaps you can follow Lord Elrond's example and find gentle humor in the situation," she said.

Lindir approached Lord Elrond to announce the arrival of Saruman.

"Welcome Saruman," Lord Elrond said, "This is an unexpected honor. I was not aware that you were traveling this way. Will you not join us?"

"It would be my pleasure," he said. Then his eyes fell on Grace. He stood mesmerized and then looked quizzically at Lord Elrond.

"May I present the Lady Grace," he said.

Grace stood, and Saruman took her hand.

"A very great pleasure, my lady," he said.

Grace bowed her head and took her seat gravely, the jewel in her forehead now glittering with cold light. Saruman raised an eyebrow at Gandalf and took a seat next to him.

Quietly, Grace sought Thorin's hand again under the table. As he felt her fingers curling around his, his heart swelled, and he took her hand between his own and stroked her fingers gently. He looked at her with a soft smile on his handsome face, his dimples deepening and his eyes warm with adoration.

"All is not well, Thorin," she thought to him, and his smile disappeared. He turned to her in concern.

"Do you need to rest, Grace?" he asked silently.

"No, Thorin, I am well," she thought to him. "It is Saruman. His mind has been touched by corruption. I can sense it."

Thorin quickly looked up at Saruman who was deep in conversation with Gandalf.

"He is known to be the wisest of wizards, but I trust what you say," he thought to her. "We will be watchful. His presence here is unexpected, and it is surprising that Lord Elrond was not aware of it before now."

"Well, well, my dear," Saruman said finally as he eyed Lady Grace speculatively from across the table, "I hear that you have come a long way to 'grace' us with your presence."

He chuckled at his pun, and Thorin tightened his grip on her hand and scowled.

"I would like to invite you to Isengard. I hear you have much to teach us," Saruman said. His eyes glittered at Grace, and Thorin saw for a brief moment a shadow behind them.

"I am afraid, Saruman, that the Lady Grace is not available to travel to Isengard at present," he said, lifting his chin and levelly meeting Saruman's gaze.

Gandalf bristled. "It is a great honor, Thorin," he said pointedly, "and I'm sure that the Lady Grace would benefit immensely. Perhaps Saruman in his wisdom can help her find a way home."

But Thorin stood his ground and said nothing.

Seeing the impasse, Saruman said, "A few days or weeks are of no matter. I'm sure that one day very soon my lady will find her way to Isengard." Then he looked at Thorin and smiled.

* * *

**Hi folks, please let me know what you think. I'd appreciate any feedback. **


	5. A Call for Help

**Things start getting sticky for Thorin as events are set in motion that can't be reversed and new rivals arrive on the scene. Have fun and please let me know what you think in the review box below!**

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**Chapter 5: A Call for Help**

Lindir approached Lord Elrond again and whispered in his ear. Elrond stood in alarm and quickly made his excuses.

"When did this happen?" he asked Lindir as they strode to the gate.

"Only hours ago, my lord," he said. "The rider just arrived. He said that there are wounded coming. He rode ahead to ask for help."

Lord Elrond turned the corner and saw a lathered horse and a rider leaning on its neck.

"My lord," said the rider breathing heavily.

"Help him down," Lord Elrond said to some elves, "and prepare for wounded."

"Yes, my lord," they said and scattered.

Lindir returned to the table and quietly told Lady Galadriel and Gandalf of the situation. Gandalf looked at Grace in alarm.

"She must not be seen by these men!" he said to Galadriel, "Any men! Too many have witnessed her existence here already!"

Lady Galadriel looked at Grace thoughtfully.

"Yes, it is wise at present to conceal her presence," she said. "I will engage her and keep her occupied."

Gandalf harrumphed.

"It will be difficult to separate her from Thorin. He is most determined to keep her with him," he groused.

Galadriel smiled serenely and addressed Grace.

"Lady Grace, I would be honored if you would join me in the solarium now that we are done here," she said. "I'm sure you have many questions as do I."

Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but Grace squeezed his hand and shook her head.

"It would be my pleasure, Lady Galadriel," she said. "I will join you shortly."

"No," Thorin thought to her, "It is not safe."

Grace stood up and turned back to him.

"If you recall, Thorin," she said aloud with an impish curl to her lips, "I am very capable of defending myself."

An attendant ushered Grace into the light-filled solarium created by a single piece of patterned glass where Galadriel was waiting. Grace laughed in joyful delight at the marvel of engineering and the various flowers brightened. Wilting stems straightened and buds began to bloom. Galadriel watched her carefully.

"She strengthens life without effort," she thought, and her admiration increased.

Grace turned to her smiling.

"Thank you very much, Lady Galadriel, for showing me such a beautiful place. It reminds me of…." She stopped suddenly and her fingers went to her forehead as she winced in pain.

"Are you well, Lady Grace?" Galadriel inquired with concern. "Do you need to rest?"

"No," Grace said, "I just felt on the edge of remembering something, but the moment I thought I could see it in my mind it disappeared. I am sorry to have alarmed you."

"You have been through a very great deal in such a short time, and we all wish to help," Galadriel replied silently.

Grace turned in surprise.

"You can speak to me that way without touching me?" she asked silently. "Then please let us dispense with formalities."

Galadriel smiled and nodded.

"Perhaps in order to help you this might be the best way to communicate," Galadriel said.

"I trust you," Grace said, "because I can see your heart, but before I allow you to see mine I need to ask why you allow Saruman to be an honored guest at your table when he has allowed evil to enter his mind."

Galadriel looked at her in surprise.

"I have never seen such," she said frowning.

"One does not look for evil in a friend," Grace replied.

"She is perceptive," Galadriel thought, "and completely forthright and true. I can see why Thorin is enamored."

"I do not discount what you have said," Galadriel said seriously, "so I suggest that you show me everything, so I too can see what you saw in Saruman. Perhaps this way as well I can help you to remember."

Grace agreed but said, "I am well, Galadriel, but not whole. There is much that I do not remember." Galadriel nodded, and they sat down on a sunlit bench. Grace put her hand on Galadriel's arm, and they both closed their eyes.

Images quickly began moving through Galadriel's mind as they did through Thorin's, but clearer images of a battle of immense proportions where blazes of pure light arrayed in blinding armor fought against an elusive but potent evil that threatened all existence. Beings older than untold centuries with tremendous intelligence and power communicated commands in a language too complex for her to comprehend, and she saw Grace's youth in comparison.

Then, like Thorin, Galadriel felt the shock of Grace's separation from her people. She tasted her first experience of pain, the agony of her fall through space and time, and her relief and gratitude at Thorin's touch. She also saw his freedom and joy in joining with Grace's mind and for the first time she truly understood who he was through Grace, and she wondered why she did not see him clearly before. Thorin was not one of a race of doltish buffoons that many elves tolerated for the sake of peace, but even though Galadriel had greater respect for him, she now questioned her blindness to his real character. He is shrewd and disciplined, she observed, and fiercely intelligent—a brilliant strategist and perceptive leader. His earlier words of responsibility and sacrifice were not just sincerely meant but true. He would be a formidable opponent but a wise and worthy king with courage of conviction and an undying love for his people. No matter what came, even at the cost of his life, he would never give up on them—or Grace.

Galadriel broke the connection, and her eyes opened wide. She stared at Grace who was breathing heavily with her eyes tightly closed.

"Gandalf's cause is lost," Galadriel thought. "Thorin is not infatuated with Grace; he is in love with her."

She recalled his gentleness and tenderness with Grace, and she nodded in understanding.

"There will be no other for him as long as he lives. He intends to use all his resourcefulness to win her heart and keep her with him," she thought with alarm.

Although Grace does not yet understand the meaning of Thorin's feelings, Galadriel reasoned, the longer she stays, the more emotions she might develop, both good and bad. She quickly thought through the various images and their significance. An almost perfect being—but a relatively younger and less experienced being—with great intelligence and power abruptly thrust into physical form here.

"How long will it take her to recall them and what would the consequences be? It might not be wise to find out," Galadriel thought pensively.

She then looked at Grace, who was rubbing her temples and looking fatigued.

"I am grateful for your openness, Galadriel," she said tiredly, "and I honor the purity of your heart, but I still do not remember who I am or much about my people. Every time I try to remember more all I feel is pain."

Galadriel covered her hand in sympathy.

"Since it is a new sensation for you, your response can be expected," she said.

Then Grace tilted her head to one side, a hand still rubbing one temple.

"Do my people only come during great deeds or acts of great sacrifice?" she asked.

"So it seems," Galadriel answered softly.

Just then an attendant quietly opened the door and announced that Lady Galadriel's presence was needed in the infirmary to help the wounded.

"I wish to be of service," Grace said immediately.

"No," Galadriel said, "You have been through enough, and you know that we too have a measure of healing powers. All will be well. The men here are not mortally wounded." Galadriel excused herself and suggested that Grace remain to rest for a moment.

"I will return directly," Galadriel said with a soft smile and left.

Grace stayed for a time until her headache subsided and she regained her composure. Then she decided to find the infirmary and offer her assistance. As she neared the door, she could hear a young Gondorian captain explain the situation to Lord Elrond.

"We were ambushed by a legion of orcs," he said, his handsome face taut with anger. "They came out of nowhere. We managed to fight our way out but we lost many good men."

Lord Elrond shook his head sadly.

"Are these all of you?" he asked.

Galadriel, who was watching closely, quietly said, "No, I see that more are coming. They are unaware of what took place, and they too will fall."

Grace lost no time. She prepared for battle and ran down the back entrance. A chestnut stallion stood nearby, and jumping on his back they sped off.

"Tell me where they are," she said.

Lord Elrond quickly gathered his guests and told them of the situation.

"We will fight," Thorin said firmly.

"Well," said Dwalin flexing his biceps, "I guess we could use a good stretch of the legs."

Gloin gave a preparatory belch. The others scrambled to find their weapons.

A host of elves in gleaming armor rode up to Lord Elrond.

"We are ready, my lord," the commander said. The Gondorian captain was with them.

"I will go back," he said firmly.

Just then Lady Galadriel hurried down the steps, looked over at Thorin, and pulled Lord Elrond aside. Thorin watched their exchange carefully.

"Where is Lady Grace?" he asked with growing apprehension. They both turned to him.

"She has gone," Lady Galadriel said.

"Where?" Thorin asked sharply.

Galadriel looked down the road and said, "She has gone to call her people."

The strong stallion raced Grace up the high ridge that overlooked a field below. A legion of orcs had 30 archers pinned behind a jagged outcropping of rocks. The rocks afforded them some protection, but Grace could see that the orcs were moving in quickly and would soon overwhelm them. She trembled with indignation at the orcs' wanton destruction as she saw the despoiled bodies below.

Dismounting quickly, she stood at the top of the ridge and called out in a clear voice, "Enough! Leave your evil or you will be destroyed!" Her voice carried, and all looked up to see a glowing golden figure. The men's mouths fell open in awe, but the orc commander laughed, his misshapen face twisting in a sneer.

"We don't take no orders from the likes of you!" he said. "Come down here, and I'll gut you like the rest," and he threw an ax into the crushed body of a young man. The other orcs roared and snarled. Grace shook with fury and drawing her swords, she strode down the side of the ridge to meet them.

"We must go after her," Thorin shouted, his eyes set and determined. An elf dressed for battle rode up holding the reins of several saddled horses, and Thorin, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, Gandalf, and Saruman all mounted and set off with the elven host. They reached the ridge just in time to see Grace striding toward the orcs.

"No," Thorin shouted. Grace turned to see him and hesitated.

The orcs cackled.

"When we're done with you we'll take care of your pretty friends," said the orc commander with a satisfied leer.

Grace turned to face him with fire in her eyes, and the jewel in her forehead flashed with a blinding light. Bending her elbows and crossing her swords on her chest, she bowed her head, took a deep breath, and then flung out her arms with a loud cry. Golden flames erupted from her and roiled down the valley. The men dropped to their faces behind the rocks, and the orcs screamed in panic before they blew apart into acrid clods of dirt.

When it was over, a thick golden haze and deep silence hung over the valley. Thorin strained to hear her and then ran down the ridge.

"Where are you?" he called desperately.

There was no answer. Thorin shouted her name and then he saw her on the ground. He hastened to her, and she looked up at him uncomprehendingly.

"They did not come," she said sadly. "I do not understand." Then tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I was so angry, Thorin," she said, "so angry. Was I wrong? Do I do wrong?"

"Grace," he said tenderly, and he picked her up in his arms. "All will be well. You could not have done anything else and saved those men. Do not cry." He buried his face in her neck and breathed deep.

Then they heard the Gondorians struggling to their feet and calling to each other, and Gandalf and Galadriel appeared in the haze.

"Quickly, quickly," Gandalf said. "We must get her out of here before they see her."

They hurried up the ridge with Thorin carrying Grace when the captain stepped forward. Thorin immediately turned his back to him, moved behind one of the horses, and put her behind him.

"Who did this?" he demanded. "I will have his name!"

"It is a mystery, captain," Lord Elrond said carefully, "but your men are safe and that is what matters."

"No," the captain said shaking his head. "You, dwarf! I heard you calling for someone. You know who is responsible."

Grace looked up at Thorin and shook her head.

"I will not be able to hide forever," she said sadly. "It seems that for now I am alone here."

"Never," Thorin said, taking her arm, "but men are not to be trusted. You don't know what they could want from you."

She gently disengaged Thorin's arm, stepped out in front of him, and faced the captain. Her long golden hair blew gently as her skin glowed bright against a golden haze, and her thick fringed lashes glittered above sparkling lilac eyes. The captain breathed deep of scented summer air despite her sadness as he stared unmoving at her perfect form.

"By all that is sacred," he whispered as he dropped to his knees.

"May I present the Lady Grace," Lord Elrond said reluctantly.

Saruman looked on with intense interest while Gandalf dropped his forehead into his hand and said, "Well, the cat's out of the bag now."


	6. The Competition Begins

**Chapter 6: The Competition Begins**

The journey back to Rivendell was rife with undercurrents. Thorin and Gandalf traveled in front with Grace, while the Gondorians rode with the elven host in the rear. Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Saruman rode in between to keep the two groups apart. A contingent of elves had stayed behind to help some of the Gondorian men dispose of their dead.

"Quickly now," Gandalf said, looking behind him and seeing the captain making another attempt to catch up to them. "Lady Grace, please see reason here. We don't know their intent. If we ride faster we can still conceal you from further exposure. They don't have to know more than they do."

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Thorin clucked his pony to move faster as well, and the three of them moved ahead.

Elrond and Galadriel were quiet while Saruman spoke with eagerness about her powers.

"There is indeed _much_ to learn from her," he said with his eyes alight, "Such power! If she could be taught to…"

Galadriel looked at him sharply and recalled Grace's words.

"She is not ours to use or keep, Saruman," she interrupted flatly. "She must go back to her people where she belongs."

"But they didn't come for her, did they?" Saruman reasoned, pressing his case.

Lord Elrond turned to face him.

"We will not discuss this here," he said firmly, and Saruman fell silent.

Meanwhile, the captain finally succeeded in breaking the combined blockade and rode toward Grace. Thorin looked back and saw him coming, so he wheeled his mount to block his path.

"Out of my way, dwarf!" the captain shouted. Gandalf turned, and whispering to the chestnut stallion, he sent Grace galloping ahead.

"Is there a problem here, Captain?" Gandalf asked genially.

"You know very well," he replied shortly. "All of you have done everything you can to keep me from her. Why? Who is she? Why are you concealing her?"

The captain turned to Lord Elrond and the rest who by this time had reached them.

"You all know who she is, my Lord," he said hotly, "so why are you hiding her from us?"

Gandalf began mentally ticking off all the reasons he could think of for why men should not have contact with Lady Grace, but Thorin spoke first.

"She is from another race in a faraway land and was shipwrecked on nearby shores," he said easily. "We found her injured and brought her to Rivendell to be healed, but she is not quite herself yet."

"Thus speaks the brilliant tactician," Galadriel thought, "and a completely honest account as well. I have indeed underestimated him." She looked approvingly at Thorin, and turning to the captain she said, "All of your questions will be answered in due time, captain, but the Lady Grace is our guest, and we will not tolerate any mistreatment of her." Galadriel looked at him until he dropped his eyes. Then she smiled and added, "We would not want her to become angry at you."

Arriving at Rivendell, Grace ran up to her chamber, tore off her armor, and sat down on the bed. She turned what had happened and not happened over in her thoughts. Finally, she dressed again in her gown and went outside searching for somewhere to quiet her mind.

When the rest arrived, Galadriel went up to her chamber with Thorin close behind.

"No, Thorin," she said turning to him. "You must not enter. We allowed it once, but she is a young woman and must be accorded privacy. We must protect her honor as well as her heart." She lifted her hand when he began to protest.

"Understand me, Thorin," she said. "I do not doubt your intentions, but where strong emotions are involved, what is right can often be difficult to discern. I will go in alone."

However, the chamber was empty.

"She has gone to find a place to meditate," Galadriel said, searching with her mind, "but I do not know where." They walked back down the steps to find the captain arguing with Gandalf.

"I will see her now," he commanded finally as he stood tall and held Gandalf's eye. His fierce gaze spoke of intelligence and power, and he presented an altogether formidable image of a strikingly handsome young man fully in charge.

"Captain," Lord Elrond said firmly, as he stepped in between them, "you are a welcome guest in my house, but Rivendell is not yours to command. I believe you have wounded men to see to. We will prepare food for you and your men. You will be welcome to join us at our table where we will allow you to speak to the Lady Grace, but you are not to press her. As Lady Galadriel said, she has been through much and we will not see her harmed."

"I would never harm the savior of my men," he said through a clenched jaw. "I only wish to honor her, my lord." Then he bowed formally and left for the infirmary.

"He certainly has strength of character," Gandalf said chuckling, "and he looks familiar. Have I seen him before?"

"Not for some years," Lord Elrond said, "but you know his father. The boy you knew is now Prince Larin of Gondor." Thorin pressed his lips together tightly and turned in search of Grace.

He found her sitting quietly with her back to him on a white bench by his two trees.

"Grace," he called gently. She did not answer. He walked around to face her, but she did not look up. Regarding her soberly for a moment, he sat down beside her and took her limp hand in his.

"You have been through too much in these last hours," he said tenderly.

"Not enough for them to come," she thought to him.

"Did you go out there to help those men or to call your people?" he asked her silently.

"Galadriel told me that my people reveal themselves for a time when great deeds are done or sacrifices are made," she replied, "and then I overheard the captain telling Lord Elrond about the attack on his men. I thought…."

"You thought that you could force your people to come when you helped them," he finished for her.

"Force?" she said, shaking her head and finally looking into his eyes, "not force. I wanted to see my people, to know how to go home."

Thorin turned her to face him fully and then took both of her hands in his.

"Grace, great deeds or sacrifices are not great if they are done to gain something," he said silently. "They are done without care for cost because of the rightness of the cause itself. Those men deserved to be saved for their own sakes, not because you would have earned what you wanted in return."

He sighed. "It appears your people will not be compelled," he said aloud.

She sat quietly for a long time.

"I see the truth of what you say, Thorin," she said finally. Then she looked at him with concern. "I want you to know though that if they had appeared, I would not have gone home with them then," she said.

He looked at her puzzled.

"I need to know who I am, and I need to see my family again," she said, "but I wanted them to come so they could show me how to reach home after I had kept my promise to you."

Thorin looked down. "I never want you to go home," he said somberly, "but I swear now I will do everything in my power to help you after I have restored my own people if that is your heart's desire. I know how important it is to go home, and you will not be the reward for _my_ deeds as much as I would wish it."

Grace leaned her head on his shoulder, and together they watched the day pass.

As the sun turned a liquid gold, they returned to the gardens for a late afternoon repast. The dwarves had found their own feast while they were gone and were taking naps in various places while Saruman made his excuses to attend to some private business. Walking contentedly past small trees, they found Prince Larin waiting for her. He had exchanged his armor for a deep blue elven tunic that fell from his broad shoulders and skimmed his powerful physique. His long brown hair curled over his brow, and his deep-set eyes were as blue as his tunic. He flashed a dazzling smile as his eyes fell on Grace.

"My lady," he said as he came eagerly toward her. Thorin stepped slightly in front, and Prince Larin stopped.

"My apologies for my earlier rudeness, Master Dwarf," he said with a slight bow, "I meant no disrespect. I was overcome"—his eyes drifted back to Grace—"by the events of the day." Thorin gritted his teeth but nodded in response.

Then Lord Elrond came down the steps with Lady Galadriel and Gandalf.

"I see you that you have met," Elrond said.

"But we have not been formally introduced," Prince Larin said.

"Ah, yes, Prince Larin of Gondor," Lord Elrond said cordially, "you have met the Lady Grace, and this is Prince Thorin of the House of Durin."

"Prince Thorin?" Prince Larin asked, and he turned to face him.

"I have heard of you," he said seriously, "and the plight of your people. I am deeply sorry for the tragedies that have befallen your kingdom."

As much as Thorin had wished for this man to be an arrogant princeling, he grudgingly admitted that Prince Larin was entirely sincere.

"Thank you, Prince Larin," he replied tightly, "There are no words for what has happened to us, but we will rebuild."

"Indeed?" Prince Larin said with some surprise. "Then I wish you all success with your efforts." Considering the introduction concluded, he quickly turned to Grace. He stood there for some moments staring until Gandalf gave a little cough.

"My lady," he said hastily, "you have the gratitude of both myself and all Gondor for your rescue of my men today."

He shifted uneasily for a moment and then said, "I have a poor token of my thanks." He handed her a small, enameled box while watching her carefully. She opened it to find a jeweled ring of a white tree made of white gold and diamonds set against an oval backdrop of sapphire.

"It is beautiful," Grace said, "I am honored. Thank you, Prince Larin." She lifted her shining eyes to his while the look on his face changed from enraptured to decided purpose.

Over her head, Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel shared looks of grim understanding while Thorin's breathing grew louder and louder. Gandalf snorted and shook his head.

"May I place the ring on your finger?" Prince Larin asked gently.

"Perhaps that would be best left for later, Prince Larin," Lord Elrond said quickly, "seeing that our attendants await us and our guests have had a long day without refreshment. Now Prince…."

"It would be my pleasure," Thorin said quickly, and he took Grace's hand and led her to the table while Lady Galadriel smothered a smile.

Gandalf clapped his hand on Prince Larin's shoulder and said, "Prince Larin! I regret our earlier words. I haven't seen you since you were a youth!" With his hand still firmly on his shoulder, Gandalf directed him to a seat away from Grace.

"Yes, Master Gandalf," he said after deciding that discretion was in order, "it has been many years since we've met, and I'm afraid that I did not recognize you either at first." Then he looked at Thorin and said, "But that was a long time ago, and I am a youth no longer."

For the better part of the evening, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Gandalf exercised their considerable powers of diplomacy as Thorin and Prince Larin battled for Grace under the guise of civility and cleverness.

"We have two roosters under one roof," Gandalf grumbled to Lord Elrond after a particularly tense moment.

Prince Larin turned to Thorin with a smile.

"My father acquainted me with what had happened at Erebor when I was a boy," he said smoothly. "That happened, what? About 170 years ago?"

Thorin took a sip of wine and nodded.

"Then you must be very old indeed," he said as he took obvious notice of several gray streaks in Thorin's dark hair. "Lady Grace must be very grateful for your grandfatherly counsel."

Thorin slowly put his glass on the table and glared balefully at Prince Larin.

"Erm, well, you might not be aware of this, Prince Larin," broke in Gandalf with a nervous chuckle, "but dwarves are much longer lived than men and as such Prince Thorin would still be considered in his prime for many years yet."

Thorin smiled briefly at Gandalf and turning to Prince Larin, he said, "Indeed, that is true, and I'm most gratified by how much Lady Grace values my experience. I'm honored to have her trust and confidence." He smiled again and lifted an eyebrow as he took another drink.

Finally, Grace asked to be excused and requested that Thorin accompany her. He stood up proudly and, taking her arm, threw Prince Larin a triumphant glance as they walked away. Prince Larin watched them angrily until they rounded from view and pounded on the table with frustration.

Grace led Thorin a distance away, and they sat down.

"You are not being truly civil or kind to Prince Larin," Grace said. "You know you are not."

"But you don't know what he wants from you!" Thorin said as he jumped to his feet and started pacing. "He has given you the ring of Gondor, the queen's ring!" he said angrily. "The prince wears it until he gives it to the woman he will join with. He wanted to put it on you, to stake a claim that you are his alone."

"Yes, I see that now," Grace said, "but, Thorin, what concern of yours is this? Is this not my affair?"

He turned to her and frowned.

"It is," he admitted, "but I can't help what I feel. I see him trying to take you away from me, and I won't let his challenge go unanswered."

Grace went to him and touched his hand.

"Do you have no faith in my word?" she thought to him. "I meant what I said to you and I will see it through. Prince Larin has lost many of his people today and is suffering for them, so I ask you to be kind to him regardless of his actions. You must promise me this."

Thorin bowed his head. "As my lady commands," he said heavily.

When they returned, Prince Larin quickly stood, but before he could speak Thorin stayed him with his hand.

"I regret our tension here," he said seriously. "We are both princes who feel deeply for the welfare of the people we love, and we grieve today for the loss of the good men of Gondor. Whatever our differences, each kingdom needs the other to overcome the evil of this world." Thorin put out his hand, and after looking him in the eye Prince Larin shook it strongly. The rest of the table looked on with various degrees of humor and relief.

"Well said, Prince Thorin, I thank you," he said. The he turned to Grace and asked for a moment alone.

"That is not necessary," she said as she held out the ring to him. "I did not understand the meaning of this when I accepted it, but Thorin fairly explained the custom of your people. Knowing that I was a stranger to your lands, it was wrong for you to impose a claim upon me without my permission."

"But my lady," Prince Larin said desperately, "I would have asked your permission and explained our ways, and I would see that you want for nothing, including my love."

"That is all very well," Grace said to him seriously, "but love without honestly is an unworthy gift."

Prince Larin looked at Thorin.

"Are you promised to him then?" he asked.

"No," she said, "but I have made a promise _to_ him that I will keep."

"I see," he said dejectedly.

"I will ask one thing of your gratitude, however," she said.

Prince Larin nodded. "I am heartbroken, my lady, but I swear on the lives of the men you saved that I will grant your request," he said.

Grace turned to Thorin and touched his hand. He smiled widely and agreed. Then turning to Prince Larin she said, "Despite your earlier error you are a man of your word, so I ask you to conceal my existence from your people and anyone else who may wish to know about me. Reveal nothing until I myself have chosen to move freely among the peoples here."

Prince Larin opened his hands.

"But they saw and heard you on the ridge," he said. "What shall I tell them?"

Grace and Thorin looked at each other and smiled.

"Tell them they saw a Therian," Thorin said.

As Prince Larin's eyes opened wide in shock, a rabble of yawning and scratching dwarves rounded the corner.

"What did we miss?" Bofur asked.

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**Happy sigh... and please review!**


	7. A Dangerous Proposition

**Hi Folks, thanks so much for following my story. I hope you are enjoying it. I thought it would be fun to have Thorin pursuing someone who might not be interested. Please leave comments and thoughts. I'd really appreciate your feedback!**

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**Chapter 7: A Dangerous Proposition**

Much later that evening, a small group met to discuss Grace.

"Of all the reckless, irresponsible actions I have ever seen," spluttered Gandalf at Thorin who was sitting calmly, "that was the worst! What do you mean by telling him…."

"It was the only way," Thorin countered reasonably. "What other answer could we possibly give that would account for what had happened? Now some will believe, others will not, and soon it will simply become part of the legends."

He leaned forward in his chair.

"I remind you that it was Lady Grace's notion, not mine," he said. Then he chuckled. "I would not have thought of something that clever."

Gandalf stared agape, while Lord Elrond slowly paced the floor.

"Yes, well, there remains the fact that she is here," Elrond said. "Lady Galadriel, you communicated with her earlier today. What did you discover?"

Lady Galadriel cast a quick glance at Thorin.

"She comes from a race of almost unlimited intelligence and power," she said, "pure beings who do not experience physical drives. Therefore, they have no knowledge of the emotions that accompany such. However, now that she has taken physical form, the longer she stays the more possible it is that she will begin to develop emotions similar to ours."

Thorin's head was bowed while Galadriel spoke, but he looked up in surprise at her last words and then smiled to himself. Gandalf looked at him and snorted in disgust.

"Almost unlimited power in a being with all of our emotions?" Gandalf asked. "A dangerous thing this is…too dangerous."

Thorin's face darkened.

"What are you saying?" he asked sharply.

Gandalf walked closer to Thorin and leaned on his staff.

"You know very well what I'm saying," he said. "If she cannot go home then for the safety of all she must be…."

Thorin's head snapped up, and he leapt to his feet and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Surely, you cannot even consider!" he began, and he looked around desperately for support. Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel regarded him soberly but did not move.

"What has she done," Thorin shouted, "that she must be condemned to death? She came here against her will. She has committed no crime; in fact, she saved the lives of many! Would any here deny that? This cannot be! I will not allow…."

"Thorin," Lord Elrond said, stopping him. "If it comes to it we would not kill her. We would not need to. When we explain the situation to her, she…."

"Oh, I see," Thorin broke in grimly, "she will sacrifice herself." He stood there silently and turned his back to them.

"She would, too, you know, Gandalf," he said softly at last. They all stood quietly, each lost in thought. Then he turned to face them

"How noble of you all," he said bitterly.

"Thorin," Lady Galadriel said, "I saw what you saw, but she is a child in her emotions here. Can we really trust her with them?"

Thorin looked at her contemptuously.

"Do we kill all our children then when they let their emotions get the best of them?" he asked. "Do we not train them instead?"

Gandalf shook his head. "But our young don't turn orcs into dirt when they're upset!" he argued.

Thorin would not be moved.

"Would that more had the ability!" he said angrily. He put his hands on his hips to quiet his breathing. "She is not a child," he said more calmly, "and her reason will govern her learning. She already has all the integrity she needs."

"And who will teach her?" Gandalf asked sarcastically.

Facing him squarely, Thorin said, "I will."

No one said anything, but Lady Galadriel looked at him knowingly.

Aghast, Gandalf said, "You must be mad! You're thinking only with your …" and he waved his hand in the general region of Thorin's thick belt.

Suddenly, he felt the point of Thorin's sword under his chin.

"_Do not_," Thorin said, grinding out every word between his teeth, "_ever suggest that I would take advantage of her_."

Gandalf was unmoved.

"Well, well," he said ironically, "is this what we are to expect from your course of education?"

Lord Elrond put up his hands.

"That's enough, Thorin," he said. "This doesn't help matters. We need to decide what must be done."

Galadriel looked at Thorin and nodded.

"We must do as Thorin suggests," she said to the shock of all.

Gandalf was stunned.

"What! Do I misunderstand your meaning, my lady?" he asked in confusion.

"You do not," she said, and she turned to face them all.

"If it were only a matter of teaching her," she said, "we could help her here, but it is not." She looked at Thorin and nodded.

"She has told me of Saruman, Thorin, and she is correct," she said. "Saruman's thirst for knowledge has become a desire for power, and he could be a threat to her safety. He has been poring over our literature, searching for clues as to her gifts, but soon nothing will satisfy him but the lady herself. Saruman's knowledge of this world and its powers may overcome her inexperience."

"She must be taken away," she continued. "We can offer her some protection, and meanwhile we will tell Saruman that she has gone home."

Thorin exhaled forcibly while Gandalf and Lord Elrond considered this new information.

"There is more," Galadriel said, her eyes now twinkling at Thorin. "Lady Grace has made a promise to Thorin, and even if we could convince her to sacrifice herself for the safety of Middle-earth, she would not do so until she has kept her word."

Gandalf and Lord Elrond turned to Thorin.

"What promise did she make?" the Elf lord asked.

Thorin stood tall.

"She promised to help me restore my people," he said proudly.

Gandalf smirked.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"It is for now," Thorin said evasively.

Then Galadriel looked at him seriously.

"It is time for you to be forthright with us, Thorin son of Thrain. I do not champion your cause blindly," and she bore her eyes into him until he dropped his head sheepishly.

Lord Elrond stroked his chin.

"Help your people?" he asked, "and how long do you expect this to take?"

Looking at them and sighing, he said, "For the rest of my life if she will agree."

"This is madness!" said Gandalf, throwing his hands up in the air.

Lady Galadriel smiled at Thorin.

"And we will be telling the truth to Saruman when we say that the Lady Grace has gone home," she said.

Gandalf looked around puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Thorin looked at Galadriel and shook his head, smiling at her perceptiveness.

"She means that Lady Grace will have gone home because I intend to make her my wife," he said.

For once, Gandalf was speechless.

Thorin stood looking out across the valley of Imladris, leaning forward with his hands gripping the balcony. Gandalf came up beside him quietly.

"You're an old fishwife, Gandalf," Thorin said, looking straight ahead. "Did you know?"

Gandalf chuckled. "Better that than a lovesick fool," he said smiling.

Thorin turned to look at him.

"You've never been in love?" he asked.

"No," Gandalf replied, "being a wizard exempts me from such nonsense." He took a deep breath and said, "Thorin, I know that you don't want to hear this again, but taking Lady Grace with you is preposterous. Marching on Erebor is a single-minded business. You will not accomplish it if she is with you. Besides, you are the leader of your people. There are alliances to consider that will strengthen your hand. Other dwarf lords have wanted you to ally with them. They will consider it a terrible insult if you choose someone outside your own people."

Thorin looked down and nodded.

"I know," he said heavily. "Do you not think I have thought of all the possible arguments against this? My mind tells me that I am being rash, that I am betraying the welfare of my people."

He looked up at Gandalf with great pain in his eyes.

"But my heart tells me that somehow she is the answer to what my people need," he said.

Gandalf looked at him skeptically.

"Your people?" he asked, "or yourself? No one would argue your right to home and hearth, Thorin. When we have achieved our goal you can choose any from among the clans and you will not be denied."

Thorin exhaled. "I know," he said. "I didn't ask for this, Gandalf, I didn't ask for her to come here, but she is here now, and I cannot help what I feel though I've tried."

"She doesn't understand your feelings, Thorin," Gandalf said quietly, "and she may never return them. You will not be satisfied for long with mere companionship or compassion."

Thorin squared his shoulders.

"Lady Galadriel thinks that she can and will begin to feel what we do in time," he said, "and time is one thing that I have in my favor."

Gandalf nodded and said, "Unless she falls in love with someone else." He ignored the sudden flaring of Thorin's nostrils and looked at him shrewdly. "But I thought that you had promised to help her go home," he said.

"Yes," Thorin said as his eyes hardened with determination, "If that is what she wishes, but I mean to win her first."

Gandalf looked at Thorin soberly.

"We're all taking a terrible chance here," he said.

Thorin nodded in agreement and turned to look back out over the valley.

"Yes, but she's worth it," he said.


	8. Conspiracy

**Thanks to all who are following my story. Here's a fun but short chapter. I might even add another later on today! **

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**Chapter 8: Conspiracy**

The Gondorians left at dawn to return home, and the dwarves prepared for Saruman the next morning. All had decided on their parts last night after Thorin awakened them and explained the situation.

"Now remember," Balin said sternly, his white beard wagging as he pointed at each eager face, "no funny business mind. The life of the lass is on our shoulders and we need to do right by her."

Fili poked Kili and they both started laughing.

"What I wouldn't do to see his crabby old face!" Kili said.

Grace was less willing to play her part.

"I do not understand why I must hide," she told Thorin as they walked in the garden. "Would it not be better if we stood together and faced him?"

Thorin was about to reply when she winced and pressed her fingers to her temples.

"Grace?" asked Thorin, his worry plain on his face. "What is the matter?" She shook her head and winced again.

Thorin took her hand, and they closed their eyes.

"Show me," he said silently.

Images appeared of a moving curtain of light. An elusive evil approached but feinted at the last moment. The curtain of light curled with it, whipping out of the way and curving to encircle it, excepting the last edge that came into contact with the dark force. Thorin opened his eyes and understood. Grace put her hands to her head in pain.

"Come here," he said gently, and he carefully rubbed her head and massaged her temples until the pain subsided. "Do you understand what we saw?"

Grace shook her head. Thorin nodded.

"I have been a warrior for many years," he said, "and there are tactics in battles. Your people chose then not to confront the evil directly but to work together to surround and contain it, leaving it no hope of escape. Do you understand?" Grace nodded slowly. "But you did not follow their lead quickly enough," he said, "and you confronted the evil directly, a battle that you could not win on your own." Thorin then thought back on her two other confrontations and realized that Grace had handled them both in the same manner.

"I expect that is how you came to us," he said soberly, "and now we have the same situation here. I am asking you to trust me to do not only what is right but what is best."

Grace took a deep breath and nodded her head.

"I do trust you, Thorin," she said, "and I will be ready." Then she quickly reached up, kissed him on the cheek, and left to prepare.

Thorin sat for a moment stunned, too weak to stand and too strong to stay seated.

"This is going to be a long trip," he said to himself.

Meanwhile, Balin and Gloin stationed themselves on a bench underneath Saruman's mullioned window and enjoyed a heaping plate of sausages.

"Did she now?" asked Balin.

Gloin nodded conspiratorially.

"She did, indeed, just as she was talking with Lord Elrond. She stopped and said that she heard voices," he said, winking at Balin.

"Voices?" Balin asked. "She's not going daft now is she, poor wee lamb?"

"No," said Gloin, smothering a smile, "You miss the point as usual. She's heard her people. They're a calling for her."

The window above opened a crack. Gloin stood up and said to the crack in the window, "We'd best be saying our goodbyes because she's going home!"

Immediately, they heard a flurry of activity. They both grinned at each other and left. Saruman opened the door and ran into Dori and Bombur, whose combined shape wedged him against the wall.

"Out of my way!" he growled. After wresting his robes away from them, he hurried down the corridor. Then he heard Thorin's voice through an open window and stopped.

"Why must you go?" Thorin asked. "Stay here with us, Lady Grace, I beg of you."

Grace sighed. "No, Thorin," she said, "You are very kind, but my people are calling me and I must go home. I am sorry."

Saruman listened carefully as Gandalf came up behind the tragic pair and put his hand on Thorin's shoulder.

"Thorin," he said heavily, "You must let her go. It's time."

Saruman flung open the door to the courtyard and bumped into Dwalin and Ori.

"Are you coming to say your goodbyes as well, Master Saruman?" Dwalin asked, "Such a shame that she has to leave, but family, well, just nothing replaces it, does it now?"

Flustered, he said nothing in reply, and he hurried down the stairs and turned the corner. Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel were bowing their heads in Grace's direction and stepping back. The dwarves chorused their goodbyes and good wishes. Grace now stood in a clearing in front of a thick hedge, and holding her swords aloft she grew brighter and brighter.

Rushing toward her, Saruman cried, "Wait! Wait!"

Suddenly, she tapped her swords above her head, and a brilliant flash blinded him. When he looked up again, she was gone.

"No!" he said raggedly.

Thorin turned toward him, looking downcast. Elrond and Galadriel sighed softly in sympathy, and Gandalf shook his head.

"Speed your way home, my lady," he said quietly.

Then Saruman marched forward and grabbed Gandalf by the arm. "How could you have let this happen?" he asked angrily, "a priceless opportunity gone!"

"Opportunity?" asked Gandalf in confusion. "What opportunity is that?"

"Bah!" Saruman said disdainfully. "You have clearly smoked too much leaf if you don't understand what we've just lost. She was the key to untold powers."

Gandalf turned and look at him carefully.

"The acquisition of power is not in our domain, Saruman," he said, "just knowledge."

"Of course, of course," said Saruman placatingly, "but knowledge is all I'm seeking, the understanding of her powers. Surely, you must see that."

Gandalf stroked his beard thoughtfully for a moment. Then he said, "I've heard that Minas Tirith has a large collection of documents in its repository on ancient legends…."

Saruman eyes lit with greedy fire.

"Yes, yes, that is true," he said, "we must go there at once."

Gandalf protested, "But I am to accompany Thorin on his journey; I have no time for this."

Saruman put up a hand.

"No, I insist," he said. "The dwarves will do very well without you. We must leave at once." Then he led Gandalf away as he talked about his plans. As they turned the corner, Gandalf looked back and winked at Thorin.

Then Kili and Fili poked their heads out from behind the hedge. "Can we come out now?" Kili asked.

"You may," Lord Elrond said, "but they must leave first, so Lady Galadriel will take her to a safe place until they are gone."

"Good," Bofur said, "can we eat now? This was hard work, and I'm hearing voices in my stomach."

Lord Elrond nodded, and the dwarves cheerfully went in search of food.

"Who says wizards are the only ones with magic, eh Balin?" Gloin said, and they erupted in laughter.

Meanwhile, Thorin found Gandalf in his chambers.

"I trust that you will keep him occupied for some time," Thorin said with a smile.

"Yes," Gandalf said, "I will certainly do my best, but he has mentioned the palantir stones, which worries me greatly."

"Does he have one?" Thorin asked with concern.

"No," Gandalf said while stroking his beard, "but I must contact our council. His behavior since meeting Lady Grace has been most erratic."

Looking down at Thorin, Gandalf smiled and put his hand on his shoulder.

"I wish you a safe journey, Thorin Oakenshield," he said, "and I wish you joy at the end. I hope one day to come and see you as King Under the Mountain."

Thorn smiled.

"Yes, and you can pay your respects to my queen," he said.

Gandalf nodded.

"You have a long road there, my friend," he said, "but you have all my hopes that it ends well—for all of us."

* * *

**I thought it would be amusing to have a little fun at Saruman's expense!**


	9. The Journey Begins

**Thank you all for reading. Your thoughts and comments are most appreciated. This is an exercise in preparation for an original book I'm getting ready to write. Actually, this story is complete, but I find myself tinkering with the chapters before I post them. There's always something to fix. **

* * *

**Chapter 9: The Journey Begins**

After Saruman and Gandalf left, the dwarves readied themselves for their own journey. Thorin went in search of Grace and found her deep in silent conversation with Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. The Elf lord and lady were calm and serene, but Grace was whimpering, the strain evident on her face. Finally, she cried out in pain and fainted against the couch.

"What have you done to her?" Thorin cried as he took Grace in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder.

"We have done nothing to harm her, Thorin," Lady Galadriel said seriously. "She came to us with a request that we search her mind to uncover the reason for her loss of memory. Unfortunately, we were unsuccessful."

Galadriel looked at her with great admiration and respect as she lay still on Thorin's shoulder.

"She is a creature of remarkable courage and compassion," she said, and she reached over to her and began smoothing her hair. "She also wished to learn as much about Middle-earth as possible before she journeys with you. She is concerned that she will be a burden to you all. Despite her great strengths, Thorin, she still has much to learn."

Lord Elrond looked at Thorin gravely.

"We are trusting our futures to you, Thorin," he said sternly, "and we know that you have strong feelings for Grace. You must not let them hurry her, and you must be prepared that she may choose a different path once she feels her promise to you has been kept."

He nodded seriously. "I understand," he said.

Grace began to stir, and he rubbed her head until her pain subsided. Once she recovered, Lady Galadriel took her away to prepare her for the journey, and Lord Elrond turned to him.

"Oh, and can you please have Balin come in to see me?" the elf lord asked with a smile. "I have a request to make of him."

The company assembled in the courtyard. The elves brought a string of pack ponies with provisions for the journey, and Nori and Gloin counted through the items they would need. As they made their final preparations, Thorin looked around impatiently for Grace. Then he saw Lady Galadriel lead her out and he smiled with fresh admiration.

Wearing a green cloak of the elves, Grace was attired much differently than before. Her golden circlet was removed, and her thick golden hair was plaited in a single braid that hung down her back. She wore a brown linen shirt and fitted green and leather-tooled vest that would blend in seamlessly with forest foliage.

Thorin inhaled sharply as he looked lower. Grace wore slim-fitting green breeches and leather boots. He swallowed thickly.

"Are these clothes correct for our journey?" she asked with some hesitation. Lady Galadriel looked on with a small smile.

"Yes, yes, they are quite correct," he said, while throwing Galadriel a look of suppressed frustration.

As they made their farewells, Balin stepped forward to address Lord Elrond.

"And no worries, my Lord," he said, nodding at Thorin. "He'll be doing his courting under me own eyes."

Thorin stared flabbergasted at Balin.

"What are you saying?" he asked with growing horror. Balin puffed up his chest and looked at Thorin with great affection and pride.

"He comes from lusty stock he does," Balin said warmly, "and even amongst ourselves we used to say…."

"That's enough!" Thorin said tightly as he glared at Balin. "We'd best be off." He turned to face the other dwarves who were all smiling widely. Gloin gave him a knowing wink.

"This is going to be a _very_ long trip," he grumbled.

As they traveled in and amongst the hills and woods, Thorin acquainted Grace with the terrain, his plans for the journey, and the dangers they still had to face.

"But these are not very great dangers to me," she said. "You need not worry because I will take care of you all."

His brow furrowed.

"You may not understand this," he said, "but we don't want our battles fought for us. This is our quest and for it to have any meaning for us we must succeed on our own."

Grace's eyes narrowed.

"Do you mean you want me to be less than I am so you can be more?" she asked finally.

Thorin raked his hand through his hair in frustration. Finally, he turned to her and asked for her hand. As she reached out, Balin rode up between them.

"No patty fingers now," he said sternly. "Keep to your own side if you please."

Thorin turned and glared at him. "I just want to talk to her, Balin," he said gritting his teeth.

"And you won't be needing fingers for that," Balin said firmly.

Thorin took a deep breath and tried again.

"In this realm, Grace, we learn and become strong through trials and adversities," he said. "We are not born complete, but we grow through our handling of what comes to us. Do you understand?"

She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"I do not understand completely," she said, "and I do not think I will be able stand aside while those I care about are in trouble."

Thorin pressed his lips together and then tried again.

"Grace, I want you to serve with us and not for us," he said. "Do you remember?"

Her eyes opened wider and she nodded. They rode on for a time while he considered her words. Then he turned to her.

"What did you mean when you said, 'those you care about'?" he asked. She looked at him in surprise.

"I meant that I felt…" she said, and she stopped short. "I meant that I felt...that I feel..." She put her fingers to her mouth in consternation and looked at Thorin in alarm. She started to breathe faster, and pain shot through her head.

"I do not think that I can talk about this now," she said while holding a hand to her temple. Finally, she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head so that her face was hidden.

"Grace? Grace?" Thorin entreated. "Do not turn away from me." She did not answer. "Grace, do not hide from me," he said as he tried to see her face.

Finally, after several miles of trying to break her silence, Thorin pulled his pony in front of her and the company and announced that they were going to make camp for the night. The dwarves rode off to the side and found a protected spot, and Nori and Dori organized the supplies. Grace immediately dismounted and headed into the woods, and Thorin began to go after her when Balin caught him by the arm.

"Steady, Thorin," he said, "I've raised my bairns, and sometimes you just have to let them find their own way."

He yanked his arm away from Balin.

"Who knows what dangers there are in these woods," he said firmly. "I have to find her."

"No, laddie," Balin said kindly, "she has to find herself."

When Grace came back, Thorin was angrily pitching nut shells into the fire, and the dwarves eyed each other nervously while they ate. Grace cleared her throat, but he did not respond.

"Thorin," she said carefully, "may I speak to you please?" He looked up at her, and her breath caught at the hurt on his face. Slowly, he got to his feet and stood before her.

"Well, my lady," he said looking at her hard, "what do you want to say?" No sound was heard except the crackling of the fire. Grace turned to Balin and sought permission with her eyes.

"Now, now, off you both go and sort this out," he said relenting, "but if you don't come back soon I'll send Ori after you."

Grace led Thorin into the woods to a clearing she had found and began to pace in front of him.

"I do not know how to say this, Thorin," she began. He took a deep breath and prepared himself.

"You told me that I had pledged myself before," she said. "Now I remember the truth of that. I remember being one with my people. But Thorin," and she turned to face him, "if I had made such a promise and am truly part of them, why do they not know that I am missing? Why do they not know that I am gone?"

Thorin exhaled in relief.

"Lady Galadriel was right," he thought, "she has much to learn, and I've been a fool."

He walked to where Grace was standing and put his hands on her shoulders.

"You must remember that your people were in the midst of a battle," he said, "perhaps one battle in a larger war. Wars are messy affairs, and they may not know until it is over that you are missing. Be patient with your people, Grace."

She looked down as she thought about what he had said.

"So," she asked, "it is not because I am not worth finding?" As she lifted her face to his, her eyes pooled with tears. Thorn's eyes opened wide as her tears started to fall, and his heart twisted as he saw her distress.

"I am bound to her as surely as I breathe," he thought.

He stroked her tear tracks with his thumbs.

"My heart," he said as he held her face carefully in his hands. "You are a treasure beyond imagining! Never again think of yourself so meanly, you must promise me."

Grace nodded and tried to stop crying.

"You must also promise me something else," he said as he held her chin to look in her eyes, "you must promise never to close your thoughts to me again. I am a strong man, but that is beyond what I can endure."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Take my hands," he said. They stood still in the clearing holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, but from a shrub behind them, other eyes were watching.

"It ain't natural," Ori whispered to Nori, "They're just standing there, staring at each other, and nobody's saying nothing."

Nori craned his neck for a better look.

"No kissing?" he asked, "nothing at all? They're just mooning at each other then? What'll we tell the others?" Suddenly, two strong hands grabbed them by the back of their necks and hauled them up.

"You will tell them nothing," Thorin said with indignation, and he threw them several yards closer to the fire. Grace giggled, a sound that Thorin had not heard before. He turned to her in surprise and smiling he took her hands again.

"So," he said silently, "there is still the matter of 'those you care about.' "

Grace suddenly felt shy, a new sensation for her, and she tried to pull away. Thorin felt her confusion and held tight to her hands.

"You promised," he thought to her, "do not pull away, my heart."

She sighed and then he saw and felt her great respect and admiration for Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond.

"They are like a mother and father to her," he thought, "that is well."

He also saw and was pleased with her growing appreciation for the dwarves and her concern for their welfare, but as for himself…. He took a deep breath. He felt her gratitude; her trust in him; her enormous compassion for his sufferings; her desire to make things right; and something else, something fragile and tender, like the first shoot of a delicate spring flower.

Thorin broke their connection and smiled.

"Now I see the wisdom of Lord Elrond," he thought. He moved to kiss her cheek, but Grace pushed away.

"Are you certain this is wise?" she asked with concern. "You became very ill the last time you tried to kiss my face. Perhaps you are not strong enough for this."

He bristled at her implication.

"I just need to brace myself is all," he said as he moved closer to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She put her hands on his shoulders and he put his forehead against hers until his breathing became regular again. Then they went back to the fire.

As they all watched the flames, Grace asked, "If my people come at times of great deeds, do they come in response to them or do they come to help them occur? If so, does that mean they have been watching your peoples?"

Thorin gazed thoughtfully into the fire as he considered her questions, but the others began looking furtively around them.

"Put down the rock, Ori," Thorin said without looking. "No one is hiding there." "Or behind bushes, Bofur," he added. No one noticed Bombur looking in the kettle.

"I don't know the answers to those questions," he said finally, "but we cannot live our lives with the notion that we have to be careful of what we do because others may be watching. We should do what is right at the time regardless."


	10. Danger and Desire

**Chapter 10: Danger and Desire**

Since they made camp earlier than usual, the dwarves spent extra time sharpening their weapons and repairing their gear. Meanwhile, Ori, who liked to draw, asked Grace to sit for a portrait. The dwarves noticed Thorin's distraction as Grace sat on the rock with her long hair falling in shining waves about her. At Ori's request, she had taken off her vest and loosened her shirt so that her neck and some of her shoulders could be seen, and she sat casually on the rock with her long legs dangling open for Ori wanted a natural portrait. Thorin stole glances when he thought no one else was watching and stared at her, his look focused and fierce with desire and need.

While Ori was busy sketching, Grace smiled at the dwarves and caught Thorin's eyes. Her brows drew together, and she looked uncertainly at him until Ori called for her to return to her pose. She looked at Thorin again questioningly, but his head was down as he sharpened his axe, and he did not look up again.

Later that night, Thorin and Balin kept watch while the others slept. Seeing that Grace's cloak had slipped from her shoulders, Thorin got up and pulled her cloak more tightly around her. He knelt beside her, gently ran his hand over the curve of her cheek, and then went to sit back down. The two of them regarded her, each with very different thoughts.

"She a jewel beyond price, that one is," Balin said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. Thorin nodded, his brooding eyes watching her every breath. He ran a hand through his hair as his heart thudded against his chest after she unconsciously shifted and stretched, his body reacting with every movement of hers. It was harder to control himself in these unguarded moments, and that fact did not escape Balin's scrutiny.

"Be careful, Thorin," Balin said. "Your eyes never leave her for long, and she caught you staring earlier. You'll have to rein yourself in laddie. She doesn't understand what you feel, and you might frighten her."

Thorin sat silently. Then he dropped his head, took a deep breath, and looked up at Balin.

"Am I wrong to want her so badly?" he asked, his eyes full of doubt. "Am I betraying our people?"

Balin looked at his anguished face and patted his arm.

"You've given up your whole life for your people," he said kindly. "You've been everything we've needed you to be except for one thing—you've never been happy."

Thorin snorted with disgust.

"Does that matter?" he asked.

"More than you know, laddie," Balin said as he watched the orange and gold flames flicker, "for when the king is content the people can rest secure. What gladdens the heart is to see the people you love being happy. You've done well by us, Thorin, that no one can deny, but it grieves us to see the bitterness you carry. Win her love, and we'll all be behind you."

"But how do I win her?" he asked quietly. Balin looked at him in surprise.

"You're a king," Balin said, "and one day you'll be crowned. You can have anyone you want. Arm-wrestling, ale-chugging, and distance-spitting matches have always worked for us. Win two out of three, win a bride."

"I don't want _anyone_," he said forcefully, "I want her. She's not a dwarf, so how do I win _her_?" Balin fell silent.

"Well," he said, "if challenging her to an arm-wrestling match won't work then challenge her with something else." Thorin looked up quickly and began to smile.

The next morning before breakfast Oin told Grace to take her swords and meet Thorin in the woods. The dwarves snickered over what was to come as they threw sausages to each other to place on the fire. Grace walked through the woods, calling his name softly. Suddenly, she heard a sound to her left and as she turned to listen Thorin leapt from behind a tree and pinned her against a rock with the flat of his sword against her throat.

"Evil wants to survive, Grace," he said. "It will not ever sacrifice itself or come out into the open unless it has to or believes its enemies are defeated." He looked into her wide eyes.

"You must learn its ways if you are to overcome it," he said. Then he kissed her on the hand.

Grace blinked and Thorin was gone. She took a few steps, and he came up behind her and caught her arms behind her back.

"Think ahead of the enemy," he said. "Know your territory and look for places where the enemy can hide." He kissed her gently on her hair and then he was gone.

She looked around and scanned the woods, but did not see him. Drawing her swords she moved forward slowly until she reached a thicket. Thorin pulled on her ankle, and she fell to the grass.

"Remember," he said smiling, "the enemy can be anywhere." Then he kissed her quickly on her cheek and was gone.

Grace looked around in frustration and then smiled. Thorin waited behind a rock for Grace to pass until the day began to get warmer. Finally, he looked around only to have Grace drop down on him from the tree above. She knocked him over and landed on his chest with her two flashing swords crossed at his throat.

"If you cannot see your enemy," she said, "change your vantage point." Then she stood up gracefully and offered her hand. He lay on the ground unhurt but shocked all the same.

"I think I need more of these lessons," she said. "These ideas are new to me."

Thorin grinned as he got to his feet.

"We are only getting started," he said.

A low growl sounded close to them. They backed away from the rock as a warg ran to the top of it and jumped at Grace. She raised her swords, but Thorin threw himself into the warg, and they both hit the ground.

"Thorin!" Grace yelled, and as she worked to push the warg off of him she saw Thorin's sword sticking out of its ribs.

"I am uninjured," he said as he got to his feet.

Grace's eyes blazed with anger, and the air sparked with golden shocks of light.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded. "I was ready and would have killed it."

Thorin tried to take her hand, but she snatched it away and stood with her back to him. Thorin took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips.

"Grace," he said firmly, "face me." His voice carried an authority that she had not heard before. Turning slowly, she stood before him with her face down.

"Look at me now!" he said. Her head snapped up, but her eyes still crackled with purple fire.

"I am the leader of my people," he said, "and for now that includes you. You will obey my orders as long as you are with us. Only one can command here, and if I decided that it was best for me to take the warg down then you are not to question. You have much to learn about battle tactics, and you will learn, but for now you will do as I say."

Grace considered his words.

"But I live to serve, Thorin," she said. "Would you prevent me from doing that?" Thorin looked at her and silently rejoiced at how fit she was to be his queen.

"Did you not know that that is a king's purpose as well?" he asked with his eyebrows raised. Then they heard another howl and looking at each other with alarm they ran back to camp.

The others had already hidden the ponies and were armed for battle.

"Just when the pork rinds were almost done," Bombur lamented as he rubbed his rotund belly. They ran to higher ground and over the ridge below, they saw an orc pack fanning out in search of them. They were clearly outnumbered and on rocky terrain.

"Thorin," Grace offered, "what if I could lead some away? I am the fastest runner here, and that would make things more even."

He shook his head.

"No, we won't risk it," he said. "We stay together."

Grace thought back on his earlier comments and frowned.

"But if Bofur could outrun them and even the chances," she asked, "would you send him? If I am one of your people for the present, then you must treat me equally. I can do this."

Gloin whispered to Balin, "She a feisty one, that."

Thorin exhaled and after thinking through the logic of the situation he nodded. Grace ran from the hiding place and on a hill some distance away she stood and called to the orcs.

"If you have had enough, leave now," she said, "but otherwise…" and she sauntered down slowly in between them.

Thorin looked down with alarm.

"What is she doing?" he asked as he unsheathed his sword. Balin shook his head.

"She learns quickly, Thorin," Balin said, "have faith in her."

As the orcs stood watching her, the commander shouted, "After her, you useless hunks of meat, or I'll be hanging your skins on these trees." Half the pack chased after her, and Grace started to run.

She kept ahead of them but not so much that they would lose interest. Then Thorin and the dwarves divided their company and attacked from the sides. Swirling and slashing, Thorin cut a wide swath through their numbers. Ori clocked a few with his slingshot, and Bombur rolled over a number before Gloin bashed them on the head with his mace. Oin battered them with his staff, and hitting target after target, Kili shot the wargs before they killed any of the others. The rest used swords, axes, daggers, and spears to take down the rest.

After it was over, the tired but victorious dwarves scouted the perimeter for signs of more orcs. Finally satisfied that they had killed them all, they dumped the bodies into a pit they found and went back to camp.

"Where is she?" Thorin asked when they arrived at the campsite. "She should have been back by now."

"She must have led them a merry chase," Balin said. "She'll be along soon I expect."

But the day grew hotter, and she did not appear. Finally, they heard the sound of her light steps coming their way. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief, and they all went out to meet her. When she saw him, she smiled widely.

"Your lessons so far have been most helpful," she said happily. "I practiced for a while, but then I knew it was time to return so I led them over a cliff."

Thorin's breath caught. "You did what?" he asked with dismay.

"I led them over a cliff," she said as she looked around at their astounded faces. "Was that not correct? It was most effective. I assure you that they are all quite dead."

"And just how," Thorin asked with tight control, "did you get them to follow you?"

Grace smiled brightly.

"I just had to leap first," she said.

Then Thorin took her by the elbow and told the dwarves that they would be back in a minute. After they had left, the dwarves turned around and kicked at the ground. They each thought on their own encounters with Thorin's fierce temper.

"He won't be too hard on her, now will he?" Ori asked. "He looked like a lightning storm."

Balin shook his head.

"Not too hard," he said, "but hard enough to teach her a lesson."

A short distance away from the camp, Thorin sat Grace down, and he raked his hands through his hair.

"She just doesn't understand yet," he said to himself as he exhaled in frustration. "I said I would teach her, so I will." Then he turned to Grace and saw her complacent face and he exploded.

"You could have been killed!" he shouted. "Lesson! You do not take _unnecessary_ risks!"

She looked at him with alarm.

"But the drop was only about 120 feet," she protested, "and I was able to break my fall on several ledges."

Thorin threw up his hands.

"But what if you missed a step?" he asked heatedly. "We would have found your body on the ground!"

Grace shook her head.

"But you didn't!" she said. She faced him squarely for a few moments before her lip began trembling.

Thorin stood there and held his breath. Then he went to Grace, took her hand, and put it over his shirt on his wildly beating heart.

"Do you feel that?" he said.

Then he took her other hand and put it on his face. She looked into his eyes and saw his fear of losing her, a fear so great that it threatened to consume him, and she thought she understood.

"You have to make a choice, Thorin," she said softly but firmly. "You either need to allow me to use my abilities to serve _with_ you, or you need to release me from my promise. I understand what you said earlier, but this is different. I was obeying your orders, and I was in no danger. I will follow you, but you must trust me in return. I promised to help you, and I will not fail."

He looked at her angrily.

"Do you think my fear is losing your help?" he asked incredulously. "Don't you understand? I'm afraid of losing you because I love you."

"And I love you, Thorin," she said. "I love all of you."

He rubbed his forehead.

"No, you don't understand," he said, and he took her hand in his, turned it over, and kissed her palm and each finger softly and slowly. His mustache and beard tickled her skin and she felt a shiver. Suddenly, she felt that he was too close to her and looking at him strangely for a moment, she suggested that they go back to the others. He shook his head and laughed scornfully.

"They are going to think that I taught you a lesson," he said, and then he thought, "But I haven't taught you a thing."

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**Things are going to start heating up soon, so stayed tuned! I'll be posting more chapters next week since I have to stop tinkering here and get going on my novel, but it's so much fun to turn up the angst! Poor Thorin...**


	11. Cooling Off and Heating Up

**Hey folks, thank you all for your continued support. Since this is my first time on this site, I'm not sure how to answer review questions individually, but Bard and Legolas both feature prominently in this story. I'm leaving you to guess why, but let's just say that Thorin needs some company. In the meantime, I'm going to be posting the entire story over the next couple weeks since I really do need to move on to my novel. As always, reviews and comments are appreciated.**

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**Chapter 11: Cooling Off and Heating Up**

Meanwhile, the dwarves had found several small ponds of cold water nearby.

"My sore muscles," Kili said as he stretched and yawned. "What I wouldn't do for a dip in one of those pools."

"Too cold," Ori said as he mock shivered, "and it's not time for our twice yearly bath anyway."

"Still," Dwalin said, "think on a soak for tired muscles."

They all smiled as they thought about settling into a pool of hot water.

"Not like the annual spring bath now," Bombur said fondly as he waddled over to join the conversation. "You have to get there early before the water gets cold."

"And dark," Balin said. They all laughed. "Maybe Lady Grace can help us," he said. "Let's ask when they get back."

"If she's still willing to go with us," Bofur said as he tapped his pipe against his cheek. "She's one to go boot to boot with Thorin."

Soon enough Grace came back to meet their eager faces.

"Where's Thorin?" Bofur asked as he cast a sidelong look at Balin. Grace smiled and said that he decided to think on a few things before coming back. Then they all lined up and tried to look presentable while they made their request. Grace was surprised but eager to help.

The dwarves trooped merrily to the water holes and waited for Grace. She placed her hand in the water and thought hard, but nothing happened. She looked up them and smiled and tried again but still nothing happened. Then she thought about the orcs and flames poured into the water. A smattering of frogs leapt away, and soon the water was steaming hot.

"Well, my lady," Gloin said as he rubbed his hands together, "thank you and good night."

Grace looked at them with surprise.

"Am I not to join you?" she said.

The others looked at each other with alarm.

"Erm, it's just that the menfolk and womenfolk don't usually take baths together see," Balin said, "excepting on the annual spring bath, and this isn't the annual spring bath."

"Oh," she said with disappointment, "I had hoped to spend some time with you all."

"Well, my lady," Balin said, "there's a pond set in the trees by the rocks that can be all your own. Some of us will stand guard, so you can have a nice soak by yourself." Then they started stripping off their clothes.

Grace wandered to the other pool some distance away. She looked back and heard the others enjoying the water, so she heated the water, took off her clothes, and waded in wearing only her body armor. The golden metal melted into the thin glittering cloth and clung to her from shoulders to ankles like a body suit.

"This feels strange," she thought, "but not unpleasant." She bounced up and down and splashed with her arms. After walking back and forth and feeling the pull of the water on her legs, she tested its heaviness and slowly settled in up to her shoulders.

Thorin, meanwhile, had resolved to be patient with Grace and not take her lack of understanding to heart. Feeling calm at last, he came back to the campsite and heard the dwarves splashing in the water. Passing Nori and Dori on guard, he saw the rest enjoying the bubbling water.

"Is this a spring?" he asked in amazement. "Is not the water too hot?"

"No," Ori said, "Lady Grace helped us." He jumped in and more bubbles rose to the surface.

Thorin stood amused at them all splashing and slapping each other with their clothes. Nori pushed Gloin under the water, Dwalin tried to flip Ori over his shoulder, and Oin's earpiece spouted wisps of steam. Balin sat up to his neck with his eyes closed and a smile on his face as his white beard floating like seaweed on the surface of the pond.

"Where is she?" Thorin asked. The others nodded at the pond beyond. He smiled for a moment and then asked, "Does she know how to swim?" They all looked up in surprise.

Thorin did not wait for their answer and walked quickly to her, but he stopped, put his hand on a large tree, and bent forward in pain when he saw her taut body silhouetted against the rocks. He groaned and turned away as desire surged through him. Then he put his back against the tree and warred with himself.

"I will not go any further," he said to himself, "else I will be lost." He moaned as he wrestled with his want for her.

"If I go out there now I will not be able to stop myself," he thought. He put his fist to his mouth. "I will not dishonor her," he whispered fiercely. "I will not! Nor myself! If I go to her now I will ruin everything." He breathed heavily for a minute and then called out from behind the tree.

Grace turned quickly, and her armor solidified into fighting form.

"Who's there?" she said as she scanned the woods.

"Thorin," he replied. "You need to put your clothes on before I will see you."

"They are on," she said softly, "my armor at least is on."

The darkness hid his surprise.

"Do you mean that you look the way you did when we found you?" he asked carefully. When she said yes, he stepped from behind the tree and found her in the water up to her shoulders.

"The others are getting out now," he said, "and you should as well. We have a long journey tomorrow."

She nodded and then stepped on a stone that shifted suddenly, and she went under the surface. Thorin waited for a moment and then quickly stripped off his coat and cloak and went in after her. He came up with her in his arms and laid her on the ground. She choked as water spilled out of her mouth. Thorin held her head until she had coughed up the last of it and then helped her back to camp, where she dried off and dressed behind a hung blanket.

Grace tried to be cheerful while she sat with the dwarves near the fire, but Thorin was watching her carefully and knew that something was wrong. The jewel in her forehead that always sparkled was a dull, topaz color, and her skin was turning pale.

"We need to turn in now," he said crisply, and all unrolled their blankets. Grace wrapped herself in her cloak and edged closer to the fire. Thorin pretended to sleep, but he quietly kept his eye on her.

"Why is this happening?" he thought. "I pulled her out before she was seriously hurt." He watched as she edged closer and closer to the flames in her sleep. "It is almost as if she cannot get warm enough." He saw the jewel in her forehead begin to wink out, and suddenly he understood.

"She's dying," he thought. "The water doused her light."

Immediately, he got up and lay down behind her as she shivered. He put her head under his chin and fitted her against him. Then he threw his furred coat and cloak over them both, and underneath he wrapped his arms around her cold body. Little by little he moved her toward the flames until her face was only inches away.

"Please," he pleaded, "please." He glanced up to see Balin looking at him with alarm.

"The water," he whispered, "her light."

Balin took the blankets off of all the sleeping dwarves and tucked them around her. They both waited while Thorin chafed her ice-cold hands. Finally, Thorin closed his eyes and with a sobbing moan pushed her face into the flames. Her jewel twinkled and then started glowing more strongly. She sighed and murmured as she dropped into a comfortable sleep, warm at last. Balin put his hand on Thorin's shoulder.

"It's time we find out what she can and can't do," he said as he went back to his place. "I'm too old for such excitement." Then he lifted his head from the ground.

"And that's enough patty fingers for tonight," he said. Thorin lay with her for a time to make sure she was warm, and then he went back to his place by the fire.

"Balin is right," he thought, "I'll never have peace until I know her abilities." He realized that they knew too little about her and that their ignorance could endanger them and her. "We need to know more and now," he thought.

"She's fast," he reasoned thinking hard, "and agile, and she has abilities associated with light and heat. She can leap from great heights without injury, and scale a cliff just as easily. She can communicate through touch, and she also seems to be able to communicate with at least some animals. Water seems to be her weakness." He thought of the different river crossings they would need to make, and he groaned knowing then that Grace needed to learn how to swim.

Before the others awoke, Thorin went out into the woods and tried to figure out a way to teach Grace to swim without losing his mind. He thought through a number of different schemes, but none of them seemed to work. Finally, he thought of something.

"She will think I have lost my mind," he said, scoffing at himself, "but if I don't do it this way I will."


	12. Deep Waters

**Grace is beginning to figure things out...**

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Chapter 12: Deep Waters

When Grace awoke the next morning, she had no memory of what had happened the night before. Thorin explained to her what he saw and observed.

"I just remember feeling very cold," she said thoughtfully. "The water did not bother me until I went under." Then she turned to Thorin and asked how he revived her. As Thorin told her what he did to help her, her face grew troubled and she hugged her knees.

"Would you do this for any of your kinsmen?" she asked while watching him carefully.

Thorin looked at her with consternation. Then Balin leaned forward and nodding at Thorin told Grace of a time when Kili had fallen through the ice as a young boy. Thorin and others tried to pull him out, but it was Thorin who finally jumped in to save him.

"We did the same thing to them that he did to you," Balin said. "You do what you must to save a life."

Then Grace shook her head as if to dispel doubts, smiled at them, and got up to start the day. Thorin followed her out.

"You need to learn how to swim," he said. "We will be crossing water on our journey, and you need to be prepared."

Grace nodded eagerly. "Who will be teaching me?" she asked with excitement.

Thorin took a deep breath and exhaled.

"I will," he said.

Grace's face fell.

"Could not any of the others? Will you be teaching all of my lessons?" she asked. She turned her back to him and gathered a blanket to use later to dry herself. Thorin frowned.

"Do you not want me to teach you?" he asked. "The others will be busy preparing for the day ahead and cannot be spared." She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders.

"I suppose it is necessary," she said, and she strode toward the pool. Thorin followed, confused by her attitude.

"Grace," he asked, "is anything the matter?" She shook her head, heated the pool, and stood before him.

"How do we begin," she asked.

Thorin took a deep breath and told her that before she went into the water he would teach and demonstrate some of the principles of swimming on land. He taught her about the properties of water and about buoyancy. As she listened, she lost her earlier reserve and leaned forward, eager to learn.

"So I can float in the water?" she asked excitedly like a small child. "If I lean back and lay down in the water I can float?" Thorin nodded smiling.

He then taught her the principles of treading water and the different strokes she could use to move through the water. He also taught her the problems a swimmer can face and what can pull them under. He said that because of what he learned about her she must never swallow water.

"Water is not a toy, Grace," he said sternly, "Even though there are many pleasurable aspects to it, it must be respected—and feared to some extent. It can kill."

Then he took off his cloak, coat, weapons, and boots and waded into the hot water. He demonstrated floating and various strokes. She watched excitedly from a rock on which she was perched until he came out of the water. His wet shirt hinted at muscles made hard and lean from years of fighting and wielding a blacksmith hammer, and his long wet hair waved as he swept it off his strong face. She looked down and away, suddenly confused.

Thorin held his hand out to her, and she dutifully jumped off the rock and went to him with her armor and shirt on into the water but did not take his hand. She looked up at him quickly and glanced away.

"What am I to do now?" she asked stiffly.

He looked down at her as the water soaked her clothes and quickly looked up. Breathing hard, he took command of himself and looked at her face. Her eyes did not quite meet his, and he took her chin in his hand.

"You need to tell me what is wrong, my heart," he said softly, "You promised not to hide."

After evading his gaze for a moment, she looked down and nodded. Just then Balin appeared and took Grace's place on the rock.

"Just in time, I see, for swimming lessons," he said knowingly.

Thorin inwardly cursed and threw Balin an irritated look, but Balin just smiled contentedly and waved his hand for them to continue. Raking his hands through his wet hair, Thorin breathed deep and stood next to Grace while she practiced the various strokes and techniques. He kept his eyes closed during certain parts of his lessons, but she did not laugh; in fact, she seemed relieved. Soon she was able to tread water, float, and swim around the perimeter of the pond with some efficiency. Her joy at her accomplishments was infectious and soon all were smiling. Their merriment drew the dwarves who quickly came after they heard the sounds and arrived just in time to see her coming out of the water. Their eyes grew round.

"Back to camp and not a word!" Thorin said shortly, and they turned as one and scampered back to their posts.

Thorin handed Grace the blanket without looking at her and started back to camp as well.

Are you coming?" he asked them over his shoulder. Balin shook his head and nodded at Grace.

"I think I'm going to stay for a while and enjoy the warm air," Balin said. "Would you care to join me, my lady?" Then looking at Thorin, he said, "She'll make sure I get back safe."

Thorin shut his eyes hard and then sighed.

"As you wish," he said and walked away.

After making sure that he was gone, Grace turned to Balin with a smile and asked, "What do you want to know, Balin?"

He laughed and slapped his leg.

"Just like Thorin," he said chuckling, "you both aim straight for the heart of the matter." Then he looked her in the eye.

"Lord Elrond wanted me to keep a watch on you as well, my lady," he said. Then he frowned. "That doesn't sound right," he said, "too formal." He looked at Grace for a minute and tilted his head.

"My lady," he said, "since we named you in the first place, may I suggest a change that I can use from time to time. I've been a father many times, and we always had special names for our bairns. May I call you Gracie?"

Grace laughed and agreed.

"Good," he said, and he stroked his long beard. "Now I'm seeing something amiss with you and Thorin. Has he done something wrong?"

Grace hung her head.

"No," she said, "not truly." She looked at Balin in confusion. "He feels so much," she said, "and even when he is trying to not show it I can still see it in his eyes when he looks at me. I do not understand what he feels completely, but I do not think those feelings will help us accomplish the greater good."

Balin scratched his head.

"I don't follow, Gracie," he said.

She then told him about her promise to help Thorin reclaim Erebor and that Thorin explained that two can do greater good together than one alone.

"From what I remember, the love of our people is very different from what I see here," she said. "Our love is goodwill and service, to heal and protect."

"And you don't think Thorin feels that?" Balin asked doubtfully.

Grace shook her head.

"Yes, I believe that he does," she said, "but there are other feelings that I do not understand and that are causing him pain."

She scooped her hair behind her ears and looked at Balin.

"Those feelings seem more like an illness," she said. She looked away and said, "The last time he kissed my hand, I felt something different, and when I looked at him in the pond I felt strange. Am I becoming ill as well?"

Balin's mouth opened and closed several times before he could speak.

"It's been many a year since I've had _this_ talk," he said as he cracked his knuckles. "Well, let's start at the beginning then."


	13. Understanding Love

**Chapter 13: Understanding Love**

After a time, they came back and prepared to leave. Grace turned and gave Balin a hug. He smiled broadly as she beamed at him and went about packing up and assisting the others. Thorin looked at Grace and then at Balin, and he felt a jealous twinge at their new-found closeness.

"What did you talk to her about?" he asked. Balin just smiled and shook his head.

"Me and Gracie just had a wee talk about how things are faring, that's all," he said cheerfully. Thorin put his hand on Balin's arm.

"Gracie?" he asked incredulously, "you call her Gracie?" He frowned for a moment and then walked over to her.

"May I ask what you two talked about?" he asked.

She turned and looked at Balin. He nodded his head, and she led Thorin away from the campsite to talk.

"I was confused by your actions and words, Thorin," she said, "but Balin explained it to me, and now I am at peace. I understand now that your people have different kinds of love and my people do not."

Thorin raised his brows.

"I don't understand," he said. He reached for her hands, but she put them behind her back.

"Your people have a love that is only for two," she said, "a love that binds them together until the body dies, a love that is often expressed through physical touching and closeness. I understand now that this is the love you have been expressing toward me. I have allowed your touches because I thought that they were your people's expressions of goodwill, but I see now you do not regard me as only a comrade in arms."

Thorin's eyes opened wide, and he took a deep breath before he responded.

"It is true," he said, "I have always been truthful with you about how I feel."

Grace looked at him with great compassion.

"But Thorin," she said, "I am a soldier and I have a duty. I fight for good, and if I cannot do that in my realm, I will do it here. That is what I promised to you. These other feelings are a distraction, and they interfere with your judgment. They do not serve your cause, so they must be discarded."

Thorin turned away. He put his hands on his hips and looked up to the sky.

"I can take your feelings away, Thorin," she said as she touched his back. She walked around him to take his hands, but he raised them in the air and stepped back.

"No, Grace, no," he said. "You are not going to take what I feel away from me. I don't need healing, and I won't go back to what I was."

He took her by the shoulders.

"I would rather die than to throw my love for you away," he said. "I was fighting for vengeance, but now I am striving with hope. That is what this love does for us, and I won't give it up—even if you don't want it."

She backed away shaking her head, but Thorin stepped closer.

"Please, Grace," he said, "don't pull away from me," and he touched her jaw with his fingers. "Do you feel nothing?" he asked. "Do you feel nothing of what I feel?" She started and then looked up at him, her eyes wide. He gently ran his fingers through her hair around her ear, his gray eyes lit with passion.

"Tell me," he said, "tell me that you feel nothing. Tell me that you aren't drawn to me as well." He kissed her cheek and the curve of her jaw and looking into her eyes he said, "I am in love with you, it's true, but this love allows us to be more than we are; it ennobles us, and I cherish it."

Grace felt his heart beating hard and pushed away.

"But I am a soldier away from battle," she said. "I would betray my purpose if I seek another path."

"No," he said, "no, because you are not here of your own choosing, and since you are here now you must do what you believe is right. But this love is not wrong because loving one another brings happiness to others. Balin taught me that."

Grace stepped closer. "How?" she asked.

Thorin looked at her with adoration.

"She is all that I want for myself in this world," he thought. He took a deep breath.

"Because love grows and builds," he said, "and when two people love one another deeply they can share their love with others."

Grace considered his words carefully.

"I do not love you the way you love me," she said finally. "I do feel something sometimes when you are close, but I do not understand it. Perhaps it is what Balin calls friendship."

Thorin smiled broadly. "Perhaps," he said.


	14. Much to Prove

Chapter 14: Much to Prove

As they traveled on, the dwarves tested Grace on her abilities. On one rainy day, Bombur had trouble starting a fire and asked Grace for help. Cheerfully agreeing, she pointed her finger at the sodden wood and thought of orcs. When Thorin came back with some dry kindling he found the dwarves patting out embers in their shortened beards.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," Bombur replied as one of his singed eyebrows fell in his lap.

The next day, the dwarves tried to help Grace hone her control. Finally, Gloin suggested that she practice away from the camp.

"She's burning through all of the blankets," he grumbled.

Thorin walked to where she was practicing and calmly surveyed the area. Scorched trees and smoking burns in the dirt alerted him to her lack of progress. He heard her mumbling to herself through the haze.

"If I just…." she started to say and a ball of fire headed toward Thorin. He quickly crouched behind a rock and waited for the heat to dissipate before he looked around the corner.

"Grace," he called with amusement, "how are you faring?" She emerged from the haze with smudges of soot on her face.

"I can start it," she said in frustration, "but I cannot find a way to stop it quickly unless I am in water." She put her hands on her hips and looked at Thorin like a pouting child. He motioned to the rock next to him, and she perched herself next to him while she reported her efforts.

"I can get angry enough to start the flames," she said, "but I cannot calm down enough to stop them before they grow too large."

Thorin thought for a moment.

"So if you have to get angry to start the flames," he reasoned, "perhaps you need a different emotion to stop them."

She considered his words as she twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

"But calming myself does not work fast enough," she said.

Thorin stood up and reached out his hand to her, and as she took it he pulled her into his arms.

"Perhaps this will work better," he said and he kissed her on the mouth. His full lips moved gently over hers and he tasted her honey-sweet breath. He moaned as powerful emotions swept through him, but he kept himself well in control and his thoughts private, and only slight tremors in his muscles betrayed his desire for her. The flames in her mind died away and were replaced by a warm glow. Then he tenderly wiped the soot off of her face and stepped back.

"See if that works better," he said, and he walked back to camp. She stood silently in the clearing with one hand on her lips as the trees began greening.

Day after day, Grace honed her abilities and learned new ones.

"This is a bow and arrow, Grace," Thorin said as Kili held up his weapons. "Swords are all very well for hand-to-hand combat, but a bow and arrow can kill an enemy before he reaches you."

Kili stood and fired at a makeshift target hanging on the branch of a tree 20 yards away. His aim was perfect, and all the arrows landed within an inch of each other. The other dwarves nodded with pride as they munched on apples and nuts.

"Here you go, my lady," Kili said as he handed her his weapons with a flourish. He stood beside her and corrected her posture and aim.

"Lift your elbow up, my lady, and align the arrow to the target," he said, and he stood beside her and mimicked the correct position.

Grace let the arrow fly and shot an apple out of Bofur's mouth.

"Aye, I guess was finished with it anyway," he said as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and waved away Grace's horrified apology.

She handed the bow back to Kili and paced to regain her composure. After looking again at the bow and target, she closed her eyes and concentrated with her palms held up to the sky.

"What is she doing?" Dori asked. The others watched curiously.

Then she opened her eyes and with focused determination she took the bow from Kili. The other dwarves moved behind her for her next shot. She quickly aimed at the target and let fly. Her arrow split Kili's centermost arrow and shot the target off the branch spearing it to the tree.

"Yes," she said. "I understand the principles now." Apples fell to the ground as the dwarves' mouths hung open.

Upon coming to a sheer cliff face, Grace asked to show them what she had done to the orcs. The dwarves shifted uneasily and looked to Thorin, who stepped to the cliff ledge and glanced over the side.

"The drop is at least 150 feet," he said with alarm. Then he looked back at Grace's eager face, and after exhaling hard he nodded tightly. Balin walked up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Steady, Thorin," he said quietly, "she wants to prove herself."

"I know," he said, and he wrapped his arms around himself and put a fist to his mouth.

As the other dwarves crowded around the edge of the cliff, they saw Grace fly by and leap over the edge. Thorin bit hard into his knuckle as he saw her jump, and looking over the cliff he anxiously watched her leap lightly from invisible crevice to barely noticeable crag. He stifled a shout when she dislodged a rock and had to leap quickly to another crevice, and he drew blood when a rock above her barely missed her when it fell. When she made it down to the bottom she waved happily and started back up. She climbed easily and leapt from side to side when crags gave way. When she reached the top she stood before Thorin triumphantly.

"Well done, indeed," he said shortly. "Now let us move on."

Grace stood there unsure if she had done something wrong. The dwarves quickly mounted their ponies and began riding down the ridge, but she trailed behind and then finally rode up to Balin and asked if something was amiss.

"No, Gracie," he said, "but you can't always expect praise for doing what you can."

"Yes," she said, "but is that all?" Balin shook his head.

"No," he said as he glanced uneasily at Thorin, "but you already know what the rest is; he cannot change who he is."

Grace was quiet for a while, and then she rode up to Thorin.

"I was happy to show you, so you would not be concerned," she said softly, "but I see no reason to use such a tactic again. It _is_ an unnecessary risk."

Thorin turned to her and smiled.

"I'm glad you think so," he said.

Then she looked down at his hands and saw blood on his knuckles. She thought that though she did not fully understand his feelings for her that she should do what she could to protect his heart.

"He hurt himself worrying for me," she thought. Then she remembered the warg in the forest. "He would have died for me then." She rode for some miles lost in thought. Then she turned, pulled her hood over her head, and studied his profile, which to her looked kingly indeed with high cheekbones, piercing eyes, an aquiline nose, strongly marked mouth, and firm jaw and all framed by a thick mane of black hair threaded with silver.

"He has a noble face," she thought, "but when he looks at me I see such feeling." She looked at his lips and touched her own, remembering his kiss.

"That felt very … strange," she thought, "strange, but pleasant. Perhaps this love he bears for me is not so very different from that of my people. It does not interfere with the care and concern he has for others. Perhaps it is not selfish after all. His expressions of it are very ... nice."

Looking straight ahead she asked, "Are there other unnecessary risks I need to know?"


	15. Mountains of Trouble

**Hi all, please review. Your feedback is much needed! I've learned so much from others' stories, and I'd like to learn from all of you!**

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**Chapter 15: Mountains of Trouble**

Soon enough they arrived at the foothills of the Misty Mountains. After climbing some way, the dwarves unloaded the pack ponies.

"They cannot come any further," Thorin said. "The terrain is too steep, and there is no pasture for them now. They had best return to Rivendell."

Grace hugged her brown pony with a white mane and tail around the neck and whispered something in its ear.

"What are you saying?" Bofur asked.

"I asked her if she wanted to meet us at Erebor or go back to Rivendell," Grace said. "Pearl said that she wants to come with us, but seeing as that is not possible over the mountains, she and Steel will find their way around them."

Ori looked intrigued.

"That's their names then?" he asked. "Do they talk like people do?"

"After a fashion," Grace said.

"Here!" Bombur said as he waddled up to Grace. "What did my pony say about me?"

Grace glanced over at Thorin who shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"She said that if you eat any more sausages, you'll have to ride astride two ponies," she said.

Gloin and Oin laughed and slapped a nonplussed Bombur on the back.

"Which one is Steel," Thorin asked as he looked them over.

"Steel is your mount," she said pointing to a large black pony with a wavy mane and tail, and she patted Pearl who nickered softly in her ear.

"And why are Pearl and Steel planning on going to Erebor together?" Thorin asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Because they are mates," Grace said matter-of-factly as Thorin grinned. "Will you help me tell them how to get there?"

He shook his head.

"Grace, it is not likely that they will survive in the wilderness on their own," he said. "They should not make the attempt."

Grace looked into Pearl's eyes, and she tossed her head and stamped her feet.

"She said it is their decision and that they want to try," Grace said. "Please Thorin, if they want to go, let us help them."

He nodded, and Grace repeated the directions.

"We will see you there, dear friends," she said and she patted them both.

"I don't think I'll be able to ride a pony anymore without watching what I'm saying," Kili said to Fili.

"I know," Fili said. "Knowing now that they've been listening all this time gives me a strange feeling."

"Like the rest of us haven't been listening to you two clods from the beginning?" Balin scoffed.

After the ponies all made their way down the foothills, the company attempted the narrow pass high up in the mountains. A fearful thunderstorm arose, and Ori was nearly pitched over the edge when the ground crumbled beneath him in the dark. Dori and Nori grabbed their brother and hauled him to his feet, and Thorin shouted for them all to stay close together in the driving rain. Inching along the slick, rock walls they found a dry cave, and Thorin ordered Dwalin and Bifur to make certain it was safe.

Exhausted and hungry, the dwarves ate from their packs and then quickly fell asleep with Dwalin on guard. Grace tried to sleep as well but felt on edge and decided to keep watch with Dwalin.

"Something is not right here," she said to Dwalin after several hours had passed. "I feel strange vibrations in the rocks."

Dwalin shook his head.

"That's just likely vibrations from the storm outside, my lady," he said. "I don't feel anything in here."

Suddenly, the rocks began to move and the cave floor opened up like a crack in the earth. Grace instantly leapt onto the wall of the cave with her pack and watched helplessly as the rest fell into the mountain. Then she heard their shouts as strange and ugly creatures herded them together, chained their hands, and marched them away. She grew angry and decided on a plan of action.

"I will not fail them," she thought grimly. "I think it is time for more practice."

Meanwhile,Thorin stood in front of the repulsive Goblin King.

"My, my," said the enormous warty toad of a goblin. "We are indeed honored by your presence, Thorin son of Thrain, but do you come to make war on us? Do you come to take my mountain since you have none of your own?"

"We did not intend to come here at all," Thorin said hotly. "We only sought to take shelter from the storm."

The Goblin King took note of their weapons and his bug eyes bulged.

"The Biter!" he shouted as he spied the sword that Thorin found in a cave, a famous blade of elvish make that had been used to slay many a goblin in an age long past. The goblins squealed and started lashing their prisoners.

"You have come to make war on us, but we will destroy you first!" the Goblin King yelled.

He leered evilly at the dwarves.

"We have not had good sport in some time," he said gesturing to a row of heads on pikes. He looked Thorin over and circled his gnarled finger around his face. "It is time we put up some new ones, and yours will be a very handsome one indeed."

A crash behind the Goblin King drew his attention, but no sooner did he turn toward the sound when a dozen goblins fell to their deaths as their plank bridge gave way. Another 20 were crushed when support beams fell out on top of them. The goblins began chattering and screaming as their bridges and makeshift wooden balconies collapsed without warning.

"How are you doing this?" the Goblin King screamed. "How are you doing this?" He looked wildly to and fro as their structures began falling down to the depths of the mountain. He pointed at Thorin and the goblins pushed him to his knees with a sword at the back of his neck.

"I will kill him, I will kill them all if this doesn't stop," the Goblin King screamed, and he motioned for the goblins to prepare to strike. "Show yourself!"

A blast of white light blinded the goblins, but the destruction ceased, and a soft glow approached. The goblins squealed and cringed and hid their eyes, but the Goblin King stared until Grace came into view, and when he finally saw her fully he stretched his blistered lips into a rictus as voracious greed took hold.

"Such beauty, such beauty," he said as he smacked his tongue against his rotting teeth. "I unsay my harsh words to you, Thorin son of Thrain. With such utter loveliness at hand you no longer need Erebor." The Goblin King heaved his bulk off of his throne made of the long-dead corpses of unworthy subjects and circled Grace.

"A warrior-queen that is beyond the imagining of anything or anyone in Middle-earth would make my kingdom one of renown," he chortled. "What say you, my sweeting? Will you become my bride for their lives?"

Thorin struggled and shouted for Grace to run, but she lifted her chin and said, "Instead I will offer you your lives for theirs."

The Goblin King spat at Thorin and sneered.

"Do you think them so worthy that you would trade their puny lives for all the subjects of my kingdom?" he said viciously. "And how could one woman defeat my hordes? I admire your courage, my beautiful one, but you are stalling for time, and now you are out of it. Decide, my sweeting, now, or watch them die."

Grace glanced around at the multitudes of goblins and then looked up at the Goblin King.

"How will I know that you will keep your word?" she asked.

"Ah, yes, well," the Goblin King said as he rubbed his scabby hands together, "I will let them go out the south passage and you will be able to watch them in sunlight where my subjects can't go. Once out, then you are mine." He leaned close to her and smelled the scent of summer in her hair while she suppressed her disgust. Inflamed with avarice, he declared that she must swear on her honor to stay in the mountain and never leave.

"My lord," Grace said seriously, "You are gracious to let my friends go as well as crown me queen of a kingdom. My people are from a faraway land and as such we have different customs. It is our way to offer gifts in kind."

The Goblin King clapped his hands with glee.

"What is it, my pretty one?" he asked. "What is your gift?"

Grace smiled, and the Goblin King was dazzled.

"It is the fire dance," she said, and quick as a flash she threw her arms out and sent billowing and ever climbing flames into the farthest corners of the goblin lair. The roar of the flames was deafening, and the rumbling shook the mountain so that rocks fell from the walls and cracks opened up new shafts. The dwarves covered their faces with their hands, but the flames passed over and around them. When all the screeching was gone she made fists of both hands, and the flames went out leaving a pungent, choking haze.

Thorin and the others lifted their heads and saw nothing but smoking ash to the farthest corners. They slapped the sides of their heads to ease the ringing of their ears and coughed as they struggled to their feet. Balin looked around and chuckled.

"My, Gracie, this is a vast improvement," he said with a grin. "How did you learn to control them?"

Grace stole a look at Thorin as he cut his chains with his sword.

"I just needed the right … feeling," she said smiling.

* * *

**So Grace is starting to feel for Thorin, but what exactly?**


	16. Unexpected Allies

**I am following the book more than the movie at this point since Azog is already dead in the book, but his son will challenge Thorin later. Stay tuned!**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Unexpected Allies**

After walking for miles they finally found a passage when they smelled fresh air coming in from a crevice in the walls. A small cache of food and ale was stored there, and they took what they needed. It took some effort to pull Bombur through, but they all made it out as twilight set in.

"That was a close shave," Bofur said as he shook ash from his hat. "I didn't fancy seeing my head up on a pike."

"Well," Gloin said, "if it was on a pike you wouldn't be seeing anything." They laughed, but Thorin looked uneasy.

"We'd best find somewhere hidden for the night," he said. "Some goblins may have survived and there are still orcs and wargs about." Calling Grace to him he thanked her for their escape, but his eyes looked troubled.

"I didn't like the way he looked at you," he said quietly. "Your beauty attracts all manner of attention, some not honorable."

"Am I endangering your quest, Thorin?" she asked with concern. "Should I make my own way to Erebor and meet you there?"

Thorin took her hands.

"No, my heart," he said silently. "I would only worry all the more. Besides, you saved our lives this time. You are needed as much as any of the others. I just cannot help how I feel when others try to claim you as their own."

"Do not worry so, Thorin," she thought to him. "I belong to myself, and no one has any claim on me save you for what we need to do." Then she smiled and turned to help the others.

"And what will happen when what we need to do is done?" Thorin asked himself as his brow furrowed.

Howls echoed on the mountainside, and they all looked up with alarm. Grace ran ahead and saw that their path led to a cliff edge, and she quickly found another way down the mountain.

"This way," she called, and they ran after her, but the howls sounded close on their heels. Thorin turned and saw them coming.

"Hold your ground," he shouted as he unsheathed his sword. The others turned and prepared themselves, but Grace ran in front of them and streamed an arc of fire. The wargs snarled and snapped at the flames, but they dared not cross. They were large and hungry, and they growled low in their throats as they paced and circled, trying to find a way through the flames.

"It will not hold them forever," she shouted, "but it will give you all the chance to escape."

Thorin shook his head and held his sword tight. Then a warg jumped at a tree and used it to push up and over the flames. Grace neatly scissored its head off with her swords, but the others quickly followed suit using others and soon the dwarves were battling for their lives. Kili shot several as they leapt for Thorin and Grace, and then Grace and Thorin saved Kili when two wargs jumped in from the side. Gloin axed a warg that had him cornered by a boulder and then turned and bashed another that had Ori pinned against a tree. Bombur ran down the slope and suddenly dodged so that a fast running warg rammed its head against a stone, while Balin and Dwalin stood back to back fighting off others. Grace beheaded another that Oin had hit over the head with his staff, while Bifur cudgeled one that was going after Nori. Thorin slashed the leg tendons of a warg that grabbed Fili by the ankle, while Dori stabbed one in the eye.

Suddenly, a warg knocked Thorin down and went for his throat when two others leapt into the fray and charged. They backed the warg into corner and howled a challenge to the rest. Slowly, the several wargs that remained backed away and ran off. The two wargs snarled and snapped as they moved slowly toward Grace, and the dwarves grabbed their weapons to finish them off.

"Stop," Grace cried as Kili fitted an arrow in his bow to shoot them. She raised her hand over them and closed her eyes. The wargs dipped their heads and listened. Then they snarled, snapped, and whined at her.

"She's talking to them!" Balin said in awe. "I've never seen the like."

Thorin kept his hands on his sword as he quietly approached them. The rest kept ready in case things went awry, but Grace stood still and finally she opened her eyes.

"I thank you for this," she said. "What do you wish in return?" They slowly crept closer to her.

"Grace," Thorin said warningly, "Grace…."

Then she reached down and began ruffling their ears and scratching their jaws.

"They're like dogs," Nori said and he moved closer. The wargs lifted their heads immediately and snapped at him.

"Stay back!" she commanded. "They are not pets, but they do need care like all living things."

She picked out painful thorns from their paws and then pulled off thistles from their bellies. They yowled and snarled as she listened with great attention.

"Thorin," she said, "what plants produce these things? They are not aware of them now that they live apart from their masters."

Then Bofur gave their descriptions, and Grace relayed the information to the wargs.

"You will be welcome at Erebor if you so choose," she said.

She gave a last pat and they ran off.

"They will make sure that the others do not return," she said.

Then she turned to Thorin.

"Tell me about Azog."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think about the action sequences. I think I'm a bit weak with them.**


	17. Powerful Memories

**Chapter 17: Powerful Memories**

They found a defensible area several miles from their previous location and made camp. Soon they had a small fire going, and Bombur prepared some food. After eating, the dwarves sat quietly as Thorin told Grace about Thror's decision to go and to the ancient and abandoned dwarf kingdom of Moria.

"My grandfather was a powerful king in his day," Thorin said somberly, "but he grew sick with greed and destroyed us all. Toward the end of his life, after he had lost all that was dear to him, he was poor and desperate. He no longer cared about reason and making the best of his lot. All he wanted was his glory and honored returned, so he went to Moria with only a loyal aide. I pleaded with him not to go, and I told him that his quest was a fool's errand and that he would die there. I told him that he could join us in the Blue Mountains, but he wouldn't hear it. He couldn't face living with the people he felt he had let down, so he went alone."

Thorin raked his hands through his hair and sighed loudly. The dwarves all knew the story and what was coming. Balin patted him gently on the back.

"He went through the gate and into the mighty fortress," Thorin said softly. "There was a loud cry, and my grandfather's head was thrown from the door and rolled to the feet of his companion who was allowed to live to tell others the tale. Orcs had taken Moria and it was Azog, a giant orc and most ruthless of his kind, who killed my grandfather. Thankfully, my cousin Dain killed him later in battle."

"Aye," Dwalin said, "and good riddance."

Thorin turned to Grace.

"Why did you want to know, Grace?" he asked. "What did the wargs tell you?"

Grace looked at each of the dwarves and finally at Thorin.

"Azog's son, Bolg, is alive, Thorin," she said, "and he is hunting for you."

The dwarves all started talking excitedly until Thorin raised his hand.

"Does he know where we are and what we are planning?" he asked.

Grace shook her head.

"No," she said, "and at the moment he is far away dealing with another threat, but when he is done there, he will come looking for you."

Thorin nodded his head decisively.

"Well," he said, "that gives us time, and we must proceed as planned, but as always, we need to stay sharp and keep our wits about us."

The dwarves nodded and traded jaunty barbs to lighten the moment, but Thorin sat quietly. Grace looked at him sorrowfully. She also wanted to change the obviously painful subject and thought that talking about the glory of Erebor might cheer them up.

"What was Erebor like?" she asked.

"Oh, Gracie," Balin said as his eyes looked misty, "there never was such a place nor will there ever be again—that is, until we take it back."

He talked long about the wonders of Erebor, the high polish of its green and black granite walls, the spacious halls and grand stairways, and the artistry and design of the carvings.

"The railings were overlaid with pure gold," Bofur said, "and rivers of gold ran down the sides in the deep. You could have anything you want of rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds. The poorest among us would still live richly. Everyone had all that they needed and to spare."

Thorin sat with his head down as he listened to their memories.

"What does Erebor mean to you, Thorin?" she asked finally with sympathetic eyes.

Thorin looked up slowly and only Grace saw his devastation before he schooled his features into impassivity.

"So that is how he manages," she thought. "He hides his feelings from the others under a mask of anger or indifference. Perhaps this wasn't the best choice of subjects after all."

"Erebor was my home and the home of my fathers," he said heavily. "We lived in honor and dignity and had the respect of all. I remember standing with my father at the throne and thinking that 'here I will live out my days.' " Then he stopped short and threw some sticks into the fire.

"Aye," said Balin, "and that you will if we have anything to say about it."

Grace thought about the cave they were in and that the temporary protection was needed, but she shuddered as she thought about creatures living in stone for all their lives.

"I see that you all are very comfortable living in and among the rocks but why is that so?" Grace asked. "Don't you care to live among living things? I could not imagine living in a cold stone cave. I would think myself inside a tomb."

The dwarves immediately raised a din as they all argued against Grace's observation, but Thorin finally stilled them with his hand.

"You are a creature of light and seem to thrive among living things," he said, "but in this world stone and rock represent to us strength, security, and longevity and since our beginning we have been gifted with talents for making beautiful objects out of stone, so we honor it."

"Aye," Balin said, "you tell it true, Thorin." He looked at Balin morosely and excused himself to scout the area. Balin went with him.

"She would never be happy at Erebor, Balin," he said with a sigh. "She belongs more with the elves than with us."

Balin stroked his beard as they walked around the perimeter of the campsite.

"That may be true, Thorin," he said, "but she is with us and not with them, and remember how you were the only one who could heal her. There must be something about us that draws her."

Thorin smiled at his logic. Balin left to go back to the fire when Grace walked up to Thorin and touched his hand.

"I meant no offense, Thorin," she said silently. "I realize now how that must have sounded. I would never disparage your home. I'm sure that your devotion to it is well-founded, and I am sure that I will be most impressed when I see it at last."

He covered her hand with his own and smiled.

"I'm pleased that you are willing to reconsider your opinion," he replied, "Our descriptions do not do it justice."

She looked at him carefully.

"You have been deeply hurt over the years, Thorin," she thought, "and I know that you have decided to end your loneliness and join your life to another's."

He moved close to her and searched her eyes.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he asked.

"It seems to me," she thought to him, "that you would best be served by choosing one from among your own people to love and be with, one who already understands Erebor and what you all have been through."

Thorin quickly sucked his breath in between his teeth and shut his eyes tight.

"So you think that I can simply take my love for you and give it to someone else do you?" he asked aloud, and he turned his back on her and put his fist to his mouth.

Grace nodded but suddenly looked uncertain when he did not respond. Then Thorin walked over to a tree and leaned against it with his hands behind his back and his eyes on the ground.

"I see," he said quietly. "Perhaps I am looking at this all wrong."

He took a deep breath.

"So you are saying that I should join with someone who understands my life," he said matter-of-factly, "who has lost her home and identity, who has lost family, and who can sympathize with what has happened to me. Do I understand your meaning?"

She nodded.

"And I am certain that any from among your people would be honored to be chosen," she said sensibly. "You would have all that you wanted with no effort."

"That is more than likely true," he said. He took her hand and kissed it.

"I thank you, my lady, for showing me the reasonable thing to do." Then he walked back to the campsite.

Grace watched him leave and wondered why she did not feel contented that he agreed to her suggestion. Then she looked around and listened.

"I feel like someone is watching me," she thought.

* * *

**Things are going to move much faster for Thorin and Grace in the next couple of chapters. Woo-hoo!**


	18. Nightmares and Sweet Dreams

**Chapter 18: Nightmares and Sweet Dreams**

That night the dwarves told stories and remembered brave deeds. Thorin lifted many a mug and never once looked in Grace's direction. She hugged her knees and listened unhappily while looking under her lashes at Thorin. Balin saw the tension between them and guessed at its cause.

"Oh Gracie," he thought, "what did you say to him this time?" He watched as Thorin downed another mug clearly bent on drinking away his sorrows and he sighed.

After sitting quietly for a long time, Grace ventured a question.

"Who is Durin and why do you refer to him so often?" she asked. The whole company looked to Thorin to answer the question for her, but he simply took another long drink, and finally Balin told her about the famous ancestor of the dwarf race.

"Ah lassie," Balin said with reverence, "he was one of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves, and he lived so long that he was called Durin the Deathless. Every so often one of his descendants would be so like him in appearance and manner that he would also be called Durin, and we honor him so much that we are called Durin's Folk."

Then Thorin spoke.

"He was a very sensible dwarf," he said lifting his mug in tribute while the others looked around in confusion, "something to aspire to."

Late at night all were asleep with Balin and Grace on guard. Thorin dreamt that he was at the ancient doors of Moria. A guttural voice answered from inside the mountain and the gray head of his grandfather was thrown from the door. The gray hair turned to gold as Grace's head rolled to his feet. He screamed as he fell to his knees.

"Thorin! Thorin!" Grace implored as she looked into his wild, unseeing eyes, "you're having a nightmare. Wake up, please wake up!" She shook his shoulder as Balin hovered over them.

"Aye," Balin said sadly, "he's had many of these over the years, and when he wakes he is a terror for days."

Grace placed her hands on his face.

"Thorin," she said, "Do not fear. All is well. Your kinsmen are here, and you are safe."

In his dream, he saw her standing on a hill with her arms beckoning. Her hair streamed over her shoulders, and she wore a white slip of a dress and her feet were bare. He ran toward her, but the closer he got the more distant she seemed.

Grace rubbed his temples and forehead with her hands.

"Shhh," she said soothingly as he mumbled and groaned. "All is well. There is no need to have this dream again. Your people are safe and you have done well. Your father and grandfather would be proud." She looked at Balin's worried face.

"You have no need to fear, Balin," she said. "I will help him." Then she thought about what to do.

"I know that you are looking out for me, Balin," she said, "and I respect the charge that Lord Elrond gave to you. I will not dishonor it with defiance. However, I ask that you let me stay near him as he did for me. There are many ways to save a life; sometimes it is the body and at other times it is the heart. I will obey your decision."

He weighed her request and then nodded.

"He loves you greatly, Gracie," he said. "You must leave him before he wakes. Nothing else would be right."

Grace nodded and then lay behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"What do I feel about him?" she thought to herself, "and why I am unhappy that he agreed to choose one from among his people? Is this love? Am I in love with him?"

She gently stroked his hair and whispered healing words into his ear as he lay quiet at last. Then she covered his hand with her own. In his dream she saw him searching for her, and she went out to meet him halfway. His despair changed to elation when he saw that she was real and still alive. He picked her up and spun her around laughing. Then he pulled her close and took her hands and held them to his chest.

"Peace, Thorin," she said. "You will not have this dream again, my dearest one."

He sighed in his sleep.

"You call me my dearest one," he said to her in the dream. "Are you beginning to love me at last?"

Grace looked at him and sat up with surprise. She looked around the campsite to see all but Balin sound asleep.

"He should not be able to talk to me this way," she said to herself. "His mind is more disciplined than I thought." She lay down again and touched his hand.

"Does that matter anymore, Thorin?" she asked in his dream. "You have decided on one of your own kind."

He touched her face gently in the dream.

"Do you think that my mind is so easily changed?" he asked. "I could no more give you up than I could take out my heart. You are the one I described. It is you, Grace, who is best for me. I did what I did to spur you into feeling something for me."

"I am not sure what I think, Thorin," she thought to him, "but you are special to me."

He ran his hands through his hair.

"Perhaps you need to stop thinking and feel instead," he said. "Everything is not an equation. What do you feel?"

In the dream he folded her in his strong arms, bent his head, and kissed her lips slowly. His mouth was tender and searching, and he groaned as he pulled her closer. Unwilling and unable to hide his feelings, he looked her with complete openness and everything he felt for her was on his face.

"I love you so much that it is painful," he said roughly, and he kissed her again, capturing her mouth over and over. He trembled as he held her, and she was frightened at first by his ardor, but she trusted his heart and found herself winding her arms around his neck and kissing him in return.

Almost immediately, he pulled away while breathing hard.

"Grace," he whispered hoarsely, "I must stop for both our honors, although by Durin I do not wish to. Can you see now that I will have no one else? No one has ever moved my heart as you have and no one will again."

Grace nodded into his shoulder as she embraced him, and he held her tenderly.

"Is feeling what you do enough reason to join with me and be with me always?" he asked softly in his deep voice. "I don't care why you would say yes, and I would agree to anything as long as you promise to be mine, to be with me body and soul to the end of our days."

Grace shook her head.

"No, Thorin," she said, "you deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them."

"Let me try to win you then," he said with energy, "allow me to try. Do not fight my love for you with thoughts of what you owe to duty or family. All will be accomplished but nothing will be gained if I lose you at the end."

Grace stood there in his dream as he gently ran the back of his hand down her hair and cheeks.

"Please, my heart," he said, "please let me try to win your love."

She looked at his earnest face, so open and loving and found that she could not refuse him. She touched his face and smiled.

"I will allow you," she said as she smiled impishly at his sudden look of joy, "but you will have to fight for it. I don't think you would be satisfied with less."

Then in his dream she stood apart.

"Now you will be content and at peace and the nightmares will not trouble you again. Sleep well my dear one."

In the dark, Grace quietly got up and went to Balin. She told him what had transpired and her decision. He grinned and kissed her cheek.

"Let him lead in this, Gracie," he said, "but do not make it easy for him. He is very proud, but all suitors, even a king, need to be humbled by love."

Grace nodded.

"Thank you for your guidance, Balin," she said, "You remind me of…." Her hands flew to her temples as she stifled a cry.

"What is wrong, Gracie?" Balin whispered. He touched her arm and suddenly he saw a hand touching the jewel in her forehead and commanding it to light, and he heard a deep voice laughing in delight as her eyes opened.

"So this is what Thorin wants when he touches her," he thought. "What a joy this is, but something or someone is keeping her from remembering."

Balin saw for himself how pure and true Grace's heart and mind were, and he had new appreciation of Thorin's efforts to win her honorably.

"But he is not the only force to reckon with in her life," he thought grimly. "There is another, the only other who by rights trumps a king, and if he ever comes for her, she must obey."

Grace rubbed her temples and suddenly looked tired, so Balin told her to go to sleep.

They woke Dori and Nori to take their places and she went back to her place by the fire and laughed to herself.

"Will he remember?" she thought. "And if he does what will he do?" She snuggled in her cloak and smiled.

* * *

**Thank you to those who have elected to follow the story!**


	19. Risks and Benefits

Chapter 19: Risks and Benefits

The next morning Thorin woke and felt remarkably well as he stretched. The dwarves looked on with surprise since he usually arose grumpy and terse at best and a fury at worst, and they thought that he would especially irritable after last night, but this morning he looked almost cheerful as he joked with Fili and Kili. The dwarves looked at Thorin, and then at Grace sleeping on the ground, and then at Balin.

"Did something happen last night that we shouldn't know about?" asked Gloin. Oin angled his earpiece for better listening.

"Such as?" Balin asked with annoyance. "We were on guard duty, and as we are all here and in one piece, nothing interesting happened save that my Gracie had to endure tales of my youth."

The others sighed and went about their business, but Bofur scratched his head.

"Well, that should have put her to sleep soon enough, Balin," he said.

Thorin came up to Balin.

"Is she well that she is sleeping for so long?" he asked. Balin dissembled and Thorin looked at him hard.

"What are you not telling me?" he asked as he put his hands on his hips.

Just then Grace awoke and smiled at Balin.

"I am well, Thorin," she said. "It was just a late night is all." Then she looked at Balin with great affection. Thorin stared at her face as she smiled at Balin.

"I would move mountains to have her look at me like that," he thought enviously. Then Grace looked at him and smiled softly. His lips parted as he stared at her with disbelief.

"She's never looked at me this way before," he thought as his eyes widened with amazement. "What happened last night?"

He walked over to her as she stood up.

"So," he started, "so why do I think that you and Balin are sharing some secret?"

She smiled as she started to prepare for the day.

"Because maybe we are," she said as she laughed. Balin chuckled as well and then grew quiet as he thought about what he saw in her mind.

"Now I have two secrets," he thought.

Before the sun rose far in the sky, they set out and encountered a creek swollen by melting snow high up on the peaks. The water was hip-deep but fast, and the bank on the other side about a stone's throw away. The river flowed over a high waterfall and continued along the valley floor. The dwarves and Grace carried what they could on their shoulders and slowly made their way across.

"Be careful of your footing," Thorin said, "There are many shifting rocks here."

He led the way across with Grace behind him. All but Bombur and Ori reached the bank when they heard a splash and a cry. Ori had slipped on a stone and Bombur tried to steady him before both fell into the water and were carried downstream. The dwarves and Grace ran along the bank and pushed an old tree trunk with branches into the water.

Ori reach the tree first and held on fast until Bombur hit the trunk with the force of his size, and Ori fell back into the water. Grace looked at Thorin and their eyes locked.

"Get a fire ready," she said, and she turned and raced along the bank after Ori. The others managed to pull Bombur from the water and all turned in time to see Grace going over the waterfall with Ori.

"After them!" Thorin shouted. Then he grabbed Balin.

"You and Gloin get a fire going below the falls," he said.

Thorin and the rest ran to the edge and looked over. Grace was struggling to hold Ori against the rocks halfway down the falls as thousands of gallons of water crashed against them. The dwarves scrambled down the side of the falls as best they could and reached for Ori. Grace and Ori edged further out of the water and spray and Ori inched over to where Dwalin and Nori were waiting to take him. He reached out his hand and as Dwalin grabbed him he kicked Grace's leg and she lost her footing and fell. Thorin lunged as far out as he could with Dori holding onto his belt, but he missed, and she plunged into the waters below.

"No!" Thorin yelled, and they all clambered down the side of the rocky hill to see Gloin making his way to her in the water. He struggled to hold up her head, but Thorin plunged in and between the two of them they brought Grace to the bank.

"Did you swallow any water?" Thorin asked worriedly.

Grace coughed.

"A little, but I tried not to," she said. "I remembered what you had said."

Thorin helped her to the fire. It was small and just catching light.

"I hope it will be enough if she needs it," He thought.

Grace started turning pale and began to shiver. She looked at Thorin and tried to start her own fire but was unable. Then she lay down close to the fire, but she grew colder, so she laid her head on the flames.

"What is she doing?" Dwalin asked. "Has she gone daft?"

The fire began to grow, and Grace gasped and choked. She sat up quickly, and Thorin and Oin helped her expel the water she had swallowed. Balin brought her cloak, and she wrapped herself in it until she felt warm.

"She isn't burned by fire?" Nori asked.

"Well," Oin said, "I suppose that makes sense since she can create it. This is a good sign because perhaps dragon fire will not affect her." The others nodded and smiled.

"There are many benefits to having her with us," Dori said.

"Many," Thorin echoed.

They traveled on and made camp. All rested easy and in the morning Thorin again awoke remarkably cheerful. Balin looked at him closely and then winked at Grace who smiled to herself. Thorin caught their exchange and walked over to Balin.

"Why are both of you watching me?" he asked with a suspicious smile. Grace quickly turned away and started helping Bombur get breakfast ready.

"How did you sleep, Thorin?" Balin asked while ignoring his question.

"Surprisingly well," he said as he looked carefully at them both. "Should I not be surprised?"

"That's good," Balin said shortly. "Well, I'd best be getting on with…." He stopped when Thorin took his arm.

"What's going on here, Balin?" he asked. "You both have had some secret since…." Thorin trailed off as his mind quickly put together what must have happened. Then he strode over to Grace.

"I had my nightmare," he told her as he faced her down, "and you got Balin to let you help me."

Grace cringed at the look of anger on his face.

"What did you do, Grace?" he said bitterly. "Crawl inside my mind without my permission? You told me you that you would not do such a thing. What ugly thoughts did you find? Are you repulsed by me now?"

"We could not wake you, Thorin," she said as she clasped her hands together in anxiety, "and I was frightened for you. I could not stand by and watch you suffer and not try to help."

Thorin shook his head in frustration.

"In some things your help is no help at all," he said with chagrin.

Grace looked at him quietly and saw the pain in his eyes.

"I know," she said contritely looking down at the ground. "I'm sorry that I told you to choose from among your own. I have much to learn about love, and now I have made both of us unhappy."

Thorin accepted her apology and looked away, and then his head jerked back to her.

"Both of us?" he asked.

Grace nodded, and Thorin gazed at her intently trying to read what he saw in her eyes.

"I want you to show me what happened in my dream," he said.

Grace looked at him with alarm.

"That would not be wise, Thorin," she said. "You might have your nightmares again."

He put his hands behind his back and walked away to think. Then he walked back to her.

"So you took them away forever, did you?" he asked. "But in exchange for what? Do you not think that I have the right to know what is going on in my own mind? Am I such a child or simpleton that I must be protected from myself? Is that what you and Balin truly think of me?" He turned to glare at Balin who shrugged helplessly.

Grace's eyebrows pinched together.

"No, of course not," she said, but Thorin stopped her with his hand.

"You _will_ show me," he commanded, leaving no room for refusal. He sat down on a rock and held out his hand. Grace glanced nervously at Balin and then sat beside Thorin and took his hand. They both closed their eyes and reentered his dream to watch Grace's head rolling to Thorin's feet as he fell to his knees screaming.

"Is it always this way?" she asked him as they watched. He nodded.

"However, as you can see, there are some new changes," he said.

He watched with interest as he ran toward her yet never seeming to come any closer.

"Yes," he said grudgingly, "that feels about right."

But then he saw her come to him and call him her dearest, and he looked at her with surprise.

"Is this true, Grace?" he asked disbelievingly.

She smiled.

"Keep watching," she said.

He saw his confession that he never intended to forsake her and that he only agreed to choose another to make her jealous.

"Did it work?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Next he watched as she told him that he was special to her.

"Am I truly?" he asked hopefully.

Grace turned to him in the dream and put her hand on his.

"Yes," she said, "you are."

He grinned at her and then watched himself kiss her passionately and pull away for honor's sake. He exhaled, extremely relieved that he did not embarrass himself or her in his dream. Then he noticed something.

"You kissed me back!" he said accusingly. "I saw you!"

Grace nodded sensibly. "I wanted to see what my feelings are," she said.

"And just what are they?" he asked.

She smiled.

"There is more," she said.

They watched his proposal and her response. He huffed, and she patted his hand. Then he saw himself asking to win her love and her smiling as she touched his face.

Grace broke the connection with him and sat quietly on the rock, but Thorin opened his eyes and was indignant.

"What did you say?" he asked. "How did you answer me? I think I deserve to know."

Grace grinned slyly as she hopped off the rock and faced him.

"You have the right to see what was in your mind," she said, "but you do not have the right to see what is in mine."

Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but Grace lifted her chin.

"Is this not how these things are done?" she asked, and she walked away to start packing up for the journey.

Thorin sat there dumbfounded and then started to smile.


	20. Thorin Stakes His Claim

**Game on! But, of course, it would be just too easy for their courtship to go smoothly-so it won't! Stay tuned for more chapters, and please let me know how you think it's going!**

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**Chapter 20: Thorin Stakes His Claim**

As they headed out of the glen, Thorin requested that Grace walk beside him. He asked her questions about her experiences in Middle-earth and her likes and dislikes so far. He also asked her about her people and what she could remember.

"Easy, laddie," said Balin, who made it his business to walk within earshot behind them, "let the lass answer your last question before you ask the next five."

Grace laughed and looked at Thorin with great affection. She asked him more about his people and his life before and after Smaug. It was clear that she was warming to him, and all the dwarves smiled with satisfaction and relief.

"It seems that if all goes well we will have a happy king after all," Gloin said to Dwalin. "Thorin's been far too grim for far too long."

"Aye," Dwalin replied, "but you know full well that there will be some who will be affronted by the very notion of an outsider. Thorin may not have to answer to any of the other dwarf lords, but he still needs their goodwill if we are to truly succeed in restoring our people."

"Hmmm, maybe," Gloin said thoughtfully.

As they passed a field of wildflowers, Thorin picked a particularly fine bloom and gave it to Grace with an elegant bow. She laughed and put it behind her ear.

When they stopped for something to eat, Thorin asked Grace to sit with him away from the others. She looked at him and admired his strong hands and long black hair waving around his broad shoulders. She had always noticed but never really appreciated his royal bearing and the natural aura of power and authority that clung to him.

"Grace, am I correct in assuming that you are allowing me to court you?" he asked quietly.

She tilted her head and smiled. "Is it proper in your culture for me to answer that question?"

"It is," he said. "When a woman allows courting rather than contest the man can claim his rights, and I want to claim mine."

"What contests would those be, and what are those rights?" she asked curiously.

"I will explain the contests later since they are usually for dwarves only, but I would braid your hair in a special way to mark you as mine, so all others would know my intentions," he said. "This custom is accepted among my people and even known to many of other races, so that no one would dare approach you."

"And if someone did, Thorin?" she asked.

"If someone did knowingly or put his hands on you, then I would be within my rights to challenge him to combat to the death," he said firmly in his deep voice.

Grace gasped. "Surely, I could not put you in such a position!" she said. "We are on a quest to restore your people. I could not in good conscience expect you to endanger yourself for me when your people need you so badly."

He let his eyes roam over her face, not troubling to hide the fire within them.

"All my life, Grace, I have willingly served my people without thought to what I want," he said heatedly, "but now I want this, I want my rights to you."

She looked at him, her eyes soft. "This means a great deal to you, doesn't it?" she asked.

Thorin leaned close to her, and she felt a fiery possessiveness radiating from him.

"I want to look at you every day and see my mark on you," he said in a low voice. "I want everyone to know that I am your lover and that you are mine to win."

Grace gently put her hand on top of his. "You may braid my hair," she said. His face turned fierce as his eyes burned with desire. He turned her to him and pulled the tie off of her braid.

"Kili," he ordered, "give me a comb."

Kili grinned as he tossed his uncle a comb, and the other dwarves nodded approvingly as they went about their business. Thorin slowly pulled Grace's hair out of her single braid and combed it until it gleamed in the sun. His hands were gentle, and he smiled triumphantly as he saw Grace close her eyes and sigh with pleasure. Brushing and combing a woman's hair was not only a dwarven sign of affection but also a source of pleasure between lovers, and Thorin was deeply pleased to see her response to his touch. He had hoped that over time he could awaken passion and desire in her, and this was the first time she simply enjoyed the feel of his hands on her. He took his time stroking her hair and running his fingers through its length down her neck and back. Then he began braiding her hair so that a single thin braid curved around each ear and hung on her chest. He unclasped two gold beads from a braid at the back of his neck and attached them to the ends of hers. She opened her eyes and smiled as she fingered her new braids and beads.

"These beads are courting beads engraved with the royal rune of the House of Durin," he said, "and no other woman has worn them until now."

"I am honored. What other rights do you have?" she asked.

"I have the right to comb and braid your hair," he said, "as you have the right to comb and braid mine. You are also now mine to care for and protect, which means that you will sleep closer to me now, but you need not worry that I will take undue liberties. That is not allowed." He glanced over at Balin who nodded his head.

"Do I have rights as well?" she asked.

"If you do not wish me to court you any longer, you will let me know by taking off the beads and unbraiding your hair," he said softly.

She sat quietly and then looked up at him. "I didn't answer your question before," she said, "but yes, I am allowing you to court me." He quickly took her palms and kissed them and looked up to see her shiver. A slow smile graced his face as he saw her respond.

"I wish you to wear your hair loose from now on unless it is a hindrance," he said. "I understand that you may need to tie it back for some things, but it is my right to touch your hair…."

"As it is my right to touch yours?" she asked, and she ran her fingers through his hair at his temples and slid them down the side of his face. His eyes flared for a moment before he closed them and breathed deep, trying to maintain control.

"So he's not going to arm-wrestle her?" Bofur asked Dwalin. "It seems simpler, and much faster too."

Oin whacked him on the head with his ear piece. "Why do I have this thing when it means I have to listen to such nonsense?" he asked. "She isn't a dwarf, you fool, and she doesn't know the rules. She doesn't have any practice unlike our women who learn from girlhood. It wouldn't be fair."

"Still," Bofur said, "it's much easier."

They traveled for the rest of the day until Thorin called for them to make camp. He was greatly pleased to see his braids and beads resting on her chest, although he did not allow his eyes to linger there. He knew that this new development would be a further strain on his self-control, and he called upon all his training as a warrior to stay focused and keep himself within bounds. Grace loosely plaited her hair into order to help Bombur with the food, and Thorin watched under hooded lids her frequent examination of his handiwork with a little smile on his face.

"It's only going to be harder now, laddie," Balin said, interrupting Thorin's pleasant thoughts.

Thorin nodded. "But this was always my intention, Balin," he said, "and it is still far from what I want."

Balin clapped him on the shoulder. "Understand, though, that I still have my charge from Lord Elrond, and seeing that there's no brother or father to watch out over her, I'll still be keeping an eye out for my girl."

After they ate, they shared stories around the fire, and Fili and Kili sang some songs. Thorin and Grace sat next to each other as was now expected

"What about you, my lady?" they asked. "Do you sing? Do you know any songs?"

She thought for a moment and then winced and her hand flew to her temple. Thorin immediately reached for her to massage her head but she pulled away.

"No, Thorin, I have to fight this somehow," she said. "I won't give in because of pain." She put her hands to her temples and concentrated, her eyes closing tightly as she shook with pain. Thorin was about to intervene and demand that she stop when suddenly a song of great beauty sounded in her head. She could not quite hear the words, but the feeling of delight and love that the melody gave her convinced her that it was a gift to help her. She raised her head to see all of their concern, and she smiled wearily and leaned against Thorin. He immediately pulled her into his lap and rubbed her temples until the pain subsided.

"I don't like you doing this, Grace," he said. "This one was bad, almost as bad as when you were in Rivendell."

"But I fought it this time, Thorin," she said as she started to smile, "and I have been gifted with a song that will help me through these times."

"I don't have the words, but I have the melody if that is sufficient," she said. All the dwarves nodded eagerly. She took a deep breath and began to sing, her voice indescribably beautiful, each note clear and perfect but sung with such passion and feeling as if all life hung on her music and that the world would die when the song ended. Each dwarf felt his heart swell and his vigor return as if the quest to Erebor were a small matter, as if there was so much more to life than they knew and that life was designed to be a joyful adventure filled with ever-renewing hope. Thorin looked around him in awe as he saw the effect of her song on the plants near them. Grace ended her song with a beautiful smile on her face, and opened her eyes to see the men wiping their eyes and roughly clearing their throats.

"I'm so sorry," she said, misunderstanding their response. "I didn't mean to make you all sad."

"No, no, you didn't," they chorused. Kili wiped his eyes and then chuckled as Fili blew his nose.

"We've just never heard anything so wonderful," Balin said with a sniffle.

Dwalin leaned over to Thorin. "I mean this with all respect, Thorin," he said gruffly, "but you had better finish what you began before she becomes known to the world else you'll be in single combat every day."

Thorin nodded seriously fully understanding what Dwalin meant. As they laid out their bedrolls, Grace shyly walked over to Thorin.

"What am I to do now?" she asked. Thorin smiled and moved over to make room for her.

"Allow me," he said, and he shook out her bedroll and placed it an arm's length away from his. Once under the covers she rolled over to face him. He lay on his arm and smiled lazily at her. Then he reached over and smoothed her hair over her shoulders, and she did the same for him. He caught her hand and kissed it.

"Your song was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," he said softly. "The others didn't notice, but the air smelled fresher, and I saw plants around us blossom and grow. That's what your people do isn't it? You renew life. That's why you won't kill unless you first offer another way. That's the way of your people."

"Yes," she said, "mercy is always offered first unless there is no other choice. Does not everyone deserve a chance to amend their ways before it is too late?" Then she frowned. "Although I don't think I'll ever find any orcs who will want it."

Thorin laughed quietly.

"Good night, my heart," he said with a smile.

"Good night, Thorin," she replied.

He rolled over but knew that he would not sleep well if at all that night. He was too aware of her presence, but he wanted all his rights even if it meant he lost rest. He finally dozed off only to awaken to feeling cozy warmth near him and he looked down to see that Grace had snuggled up to him in her sleep. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him for a few precious minutes, but then he moved further away and rolled his back to her to keep propriety intact. He ached to hold her and to make her his forever, but he remembered Lord Elrond's words not to rush her.

"Aye," he thought with frustration, "but Elrond isn't sleeping next to her every night either."


	21. Trouble in Town

**Chapter 21: Trouble in Town**

The next morning he was up early and lay on his side toward her waiting for her to awaken. She had a small smile on her face, and he looked admiringly at her long lashes on her high cheeks and her full lips that now pouted adorably. As she woke she saw him looking at her, and she reached out her hand toward his eyes.

"You have beautiful eyes," she said. "They are gray but sometimes they almost look blue. They are very expressive, although I don't always understand what they are saying."

Thorin was surprised and pleased to hear her mention his appearance. She had never done so before. He wanted to ask her if she found him handsome and desirable. He had always known that dwarf women found him desirable, some because of his position as heir to the throne, but most because they thought him handsome. He had heard much of the gossip surrounding him when at Erebor, and even his reduced circumstances in the Blue Mountains had not diminished his attraction, but here with Grace he felt unsure of his appeal. Then he saw her braids and reassured himself for the moment.

After getting up and preparing for the the day, they traveled until they reached a small, timber-walled village in the mountainous countryside not far from Mirkwood.

"I don't recall Gandalf mentioning any villages in the lone-lands," Thorin said with concern. He called Oin and Gloin and told them to find out more information. After they came back they reported that men of the south had begun to resettle these parts even though they knew that goblins and wargs were close by.

"I don't know if that's foolhardy or courageous," Balin said. "What kind of people would live here?"

"We'd best stay sharp." Thorin said. Then he called the company together.

"We'll stop here and see if they'll let us resupply," Thorin said. He looked at Grace. "You need to stay out of sight," he said. "The cloak you were given will serve you well." Grace pulled her head into her hood and made sure that her sleeves and gloves covered her arms and hands completely.

Walking through the village, the dwarves looked around at the rude collection of buildings and found what looked to be a gathering place. After the dwarves bartered what they needed from the supply depot, Balin and Gloin went inside the meeting house to request a private room.

"None here but this one," said the gap-toothed cook, "but I'll set up a few tables and chairs in the corner there."

Thorin frowned and looked at Grace when he heard their news.

"I could stay outside," she offered, "I do not wish to cause any trouble."

Thorin shook his head.

"We should be able to avoid notice if you just stay quiet," he said. "The rest make enough noise to distract any attention." They went in together and hid Grace in their midst. Soon, the dwarves were making merry with joints of mutton and mugs of ale. Their noise attracted a few drunken louts who had heard of the dwarves' prowess at arm-wrestling.

"Is it true that you arm-wrestle to win your wives?" asked a stocky man whose hair hung in greasy strands on his thick-featured face. "I'd have a whole passel of wives in that case!" He laughed and turned to his friends for approval.

"So," he said, "let's see if the rumors are true, but I'll not be taking any of you ugly dogs back home!" He pushed some plates aside and slammed his arm down on the table. No one moved.

"You!" he said to Thorin. "You're prettier than the rest. In fact, if I have a few more drinks I might consider taking _you_ back!" All the dwarves except Thorin immediately stood in outrage, but he did not move. The man laughed with his friends and then turned again to challenge the dwarf prince. Thorin's eyes burned and for a moment the man faltered in his bravado, but with his friends cheering him on, he soon looked back at Thorin and flexed his arm.

Very slowly and without changing his expression, Thorin moved forward and put his arm on the table. They grabbed hands and though the man struggled with grunts and groans, Thorin bested him easily. The dwarves laughed and clapped Thorin on the back, but the men at the bar jeered their defeated friend who then looked determined to recover some respect.

"You will now leave us be," Thorin said in a low, menacing tone, but the man refused to leave without a victory to claim.

"I wasn't warmed up," he said and he pointed to Grace. "You!" he said. "I'll have a try with you!"

Grace shrunk back into the shadows, and Balin quickly said that the lad was too ill for a contest, but the man would not be gainsaid.

"I've heard that dwarves ain't cowards," he said, "but I guess them that said it were wrong."

The room fell silent. Grace looked at her crestfallen friends and the smirking men and was decided. Tucking her sleeves into her gloves, she slowly got up, sat down at the table, and put up her arm. The men got up from their seats and stood behind the dwarves to see the outcome.

"Take your hood off so I can see your face when you lose," the man said. Grace shook her head and flexed her fist.

"Have it your way dwarf," he said, and he grabbed her hand. When the contest began, Grace smashed his hand onto the table.

The dwarves and Grace stood to leave, but the man grabbed the back of her hood and pulled it down and her cloak fell to the floor. The men gasped at the sight of the golden beauty that stood before them. For a moment, time was suspended as they stared transfixed at the loveliest creature any of them had ever seen. No one moved, but Thorin's eyes flashed around the room, taking in the scene and quickly figuring the best course of action. Too soon, however, the men's admiration rapidly turned less savory, and a number of them pulled knives and held them at the dwarves' throats. Several others bound Thorin's hands behind his back.

"Here we go again," Dwalin muttered under his breath.

"Who is this?" asked a big man who stood at the end of the room. "You're something out of a dream, a very particular dream, eh gents?" He was tall and would have been considered handsome at one time had it not been for dissolute habits that left his teeth rotten and his eyes yellow. He appraised Grace lazily, and his eyes took in her face and form with lustful appreciation.

"Women should wear breeches more often," he observed, "they give a man more to think about."

Thorin lunged at him. Two others hit Thorin over the head with a club and held him down with daggers at his throat. The man fingered her braids and the beads at the end.

"Do not touch her!" Thorin thundered. The man smirked at Thorin.

"Are you his, my dear?" the man asked as he turned back to Grace. "But why should you have to suffer his attentions when a _man_ can satisfy you?"

"I belong to no one," she said firmly, "and I am well able to defend myself."

The man snapped his fingers, and his friends tightened their grip on the dwarves.

"You'd best not be thinking of doing anything foolish, sweetheart," the man said, "else you'll watch your friends suffer for it." Ori cried out as the knife under his throat lightly drew blood.

Grace then stood silently while the man walked around her, stroked her cheek, and ran his hand down her arm. Thorin struggled and challenged the man to combat, but he ignored him.

"I look forward to spending some time with you," he said as his eyes lingered on her body. The other men protested, but he waved his hand carelessly at them. "Plenty of time, men," he said, "plenty of time for all—that is, unless I decide to keep her."

He gestured for Grace to follow him into the large, storage closet, but she did not move. The man grabbed her face and forced her to look into his eyes.

"You'll come with me and make it worth my while or they'll die," he said roughly.

Thorin shouted for her not to go, but she looked sadly at him and walked into the closet with the man. His friends listened salaciously as they heard noises coming from inside. Thorin struggled ferociously against his captors, but they hit him over the head again with the club, and blood began to flow from his scalp.

Finally, they saw light flood from inside the closet. All at once the door flew open and Grace faced the men with her swords held over her head. As the dwarves closed their eyes tightly and covered their faces, she hit her swords together hard and a blinding flash filled the room. She cut Thorin's bonds and the rest disarmed the men. Thorin grabbed her arm.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked with tormented eyes.

Grace shook her head.

"No," she said. "I am well. Do not fear for me, Thorin."

He unsheathed his sword and turned in a fury. "I will kill him for touchng you!" he cried, but Grace grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

"It is my right, Grace!" he raged, but she took his free hand and put it on her face.

"Mercy, Thorin," she said, "mercy. They are blinded now and helpless. Let us go and leave this behind. They will learn their lesson soon enough."

He looked in her eyes and sighed heavily. She stepped close to him, and he put his arms around her. They walked outside and left the outpost behind.

"How long will it be before the men will regain their sight?" Balin asked.

Grace smiled.

"Not for quite a while, I think," she said. "They will have at least some hours to sit quietly and think about other things." They laughed together.

Then she turned and saw the dwarves looking anxiously at Thorin as they walked quickly along. Blood was dripping onto his leather jerkin, and his eyes were stoic with pain.

"Thorin!" she cried with dismay. "You are bleeding! We must stop and tend to you." They found an area out of view from the road, and Grace insisted that Thorin let her see to his wounds, but he waved her away.

"I am a warrior, and this is nothing compared to others over the years, but he put his filthy hands on you," he said miserably, "and I couldn't stop him."

Grace took his hands.

"Look at me," she said. Slowly, he lifted his remorseful eyes to hers.

"Peace, Thorin," she said silently, "there is no guilt here, no sorrow. I was not injured and indeed nothing happened."

"But it is my place to protect you," he thought to her, "and I failed."

"Did you?" she replied. "Your teaching allowed me to escape him." She touched his cheek and soothed his mind. He took her hand and kissed it.

"Now let me see to you," she said. "This is _my_ right." She gently pushed away his hair and inspected his ears and scalp. He sighed at her touch. Then she wet a cloth with water and dabbed away the blood to see how badly he was hurt.

"There is only one that is deep," she said, "but it is already clotting over." She carefully braided a section of his hair so that it would not tangle in the wound.

"I would wish to be wounded a thousand times over if you would always minister to me as you just have," he said as he looked lovingly upon her. Then his eyes grew troubled and he caught her hand.

"You would tell me if there was something else to say?" he asked silently. "I would not have you carry any pain in your heart, and I would think no less of you. If he had done something to you, you would tell me?"

Grace then let Thorin see what had happened in the closet. The noises he heard were of Grace binding and gagging the man before he could lay a hand on her.

Finally smiling, he said, "You are a quick learner; you need no more lessons on how to tie knots."

When the men finally regained their sight, they found their friend tied in thick knots to all four corners of the closet and everything in between.

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**I figured that Grace would attract all kinds of men for all kinds of reasons. I had read in a college class on medieval history that noble men were told that if they found a peasant woman desirable, that they should just take them into the fields and have their way with them with or without their consent. Barbaric, and these men certainly weren't noble, but I think Grace handled it well though I felt sorry for Thorin. Please review!**


	22. Learning His Lesson

**And now for something fun. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 22: Learning His Lesson**

Thorin put as much distance as possible between them and the village. They finally stopped under an overhang and set up camp. Grace walked around the edge of the camp looking out into the woods, thinking that she saw something but came back shaking her head. Nearby was a flat rock, and Bombur prepared his outdoor kitchen. Grace walked over to Bofur to help him shake out the bedrolls, and she asked about arm-wrestling.

"What is the purpose of it?" she asked. "Nothing is gained."

"Except honor and respect maybe," Bofur said winking at Gloin.

"And maybe a wife, if you're lucky," he said under his breath and chuckled. Then he thought for a moment.

"So you never arm-wrestled before?" he asked.

Grace shook her head. "I would not have then," she said, "but it seemed so important to you all."

Balin nodded his head and smiled proudly.

"And she bested him flat," he said. "Gracie here is a strong one."

"Let's see how strong," Bofur said, and he put up his arm on the flat rock.

Grace looked quickly at Balin, and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea after all, Bofur," he said, as he glanced over to where Thorin was checking on the supplies, and emphasized, "_with Thorin's beads in her hair and her not being acquainted with the rules and all._"

Bofur smiled.

"When the hands are clasped, the rules are binding," he said puckishly. "That's why we give them two out of three, don't we? For them that don't know the rules?" He flexed his arm and nodded for her to face him over the flat rock. He winked at the dwarves to let them know that he was not serious.

She easily won the first round, so Bofur suggested that he use both hands to make it even.

"That's not fair, Bofur," Ori said, but he grinned.

"Everything's fair as long as both are agreed to it," he said. "My lady, do you accept my terms?"

Grace looked around at the dwarves. Dori was shaking his head, and Balin looked worriedly over at Thorin who was talking to Kili and Fili and had taken no notice, but the rest looked on with curiosity knowing that Bofur meant no harm.

"I haven't seen this since Limrif won his wife," Gloin said under his breath to Oin. "No one knew until the last round how it was going to turn out."

"And we're still wondering!" Oin said as he nudged Gloin's shoulder and chuckled.

Grace looked around at the dwarves.

"If it is allowed I will agree," she said.

She put up her arm and Bofur spat in his hands and sat down opposite. He smiled at Bifur who just shook his head and clasped both his hands around Grace's wrist. When the contest began, Bofur heaved and strained while Grace talked to Balin. Their arms did not move.

"So what is the origin of this game?" she asked Balin while sweat began to bead on Bofur's forehead.

"Ach, lass," Balin answered, "it goes back so far that no one knows and we dwarves have been doing it for untold ages."

"And what does the winner receive?" she asked.

Balin smiled at last and said, "a wife if he wins two out of three."

Grace immediately slammed Bofur's arms down hard on the rock.

"I see," she said as she glared at Bofur, who slunk away to the fire after rubbing his arms. Fili and Kili nudged each other as they saw Thorin walk quickly over to Bofur, lift him up by the back of his neck, and silently haul him into the woods.

"Well, that's not going to go well," Fili whispered.

"Yes, but Bofur was only joking, and uncle knows that," Kili whispered back.

"But he still put his hands on her," Fili said, "and so I think he does need s stern talking to, which I'm sure our uncle will provide."

Meanwhile, Grace stood in front of the other dwarves.

"What other contests should I know about?" she asked them when Thorin sat down, put his arm up, and lifted a brow in challenge.

Grace looked at him strangely.

"Are you in earnest?" she asked.

"More than anything," he said as he trained his eyes on her.

"I will not allow you to win me as if I were a trinket on a shelf," she said.

"Not a trinket but the most priceless jewel in Middle-earth," he said.

"Still worthless if won so cheaply," she countered unimpressed. "Is this the best you can do, Thorin?"

He smirked at her.

"Are you afraid you will lose?" he said arrogantly.

"Perhaps the king needs a lesson of his own," she thought to herself.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared into his, and she quickly slid into position. He requested that they both wear gloves, and the contest began. Thorin set his teeth and thought of winning her. With that in mind, he slowly forced her hand down. All the dwarves except Balin cheered him, and he looked at them triumphantly. Then he faced her with a smile and winked. Grace's eyes spat purple fire, and she rolled up her sleeve angrily and slammed her elbow down. Thorin took her hand calmly and with great assurance. They clasped hands again, and she fought against his iron grip. The dwarves yelled encouragement, but they fell silent when she began to force his hand down. The smug smile disappeared from his face, and she raised her eyebrows at him as the back of his hand touched the rock. His initial look of surprised admiration quickly turned to grim determination when she winked in return.

Immediately, both of them got up and paced on their respective sides. Then at the same time, both of them stormed nose to nose back into position. The contest began, and their arms shook with tension. Sweat began to gather on Thorin's face, and the intense expression on hers showed the strain. Neither one could best the other, and then she began to smile and the gloves began to smoke. Finally, they broke apart in a draw, and Thorin ripped off his glove as it caught fire.

"So is this what all of you do?" she asked as she looked around at the dwarves who stared at the flaming gloves with their mouths open. "Is this how all of you won your wives?"

Bofur scratched his head with his pipe.

"Well," he said, "now that you come to it, some of us don't have wives yet."

"Does that mean you lost?" she asked pointedly as she glared at Thorin.

Balin looked down and shook his head while the other dwarves slapped their knees and laughed until they saw the look of thunder on Thorin's face. Then he chuckled and walked over to Grace to shake her hand.

"Well fought," he said with a smile. "Your lessons on tactics are bearing fruit."

"Thank you," she said seriously, "and you are going to have to change yours if you want a different result."

Thorin scoffed.

"We have been doing this since time out of mind," he persisted. "It is accepted by everyone."

Grace lifted her chin and fixed disdainful eyes on him.

"I am not _everyone_," she said sternly, and she stalked away leaving him truly bested and moved her bedroll as Balin hid a smirk.

The next day Thorin was quiet as they walked along the valley floor. The others gave him a wide berth, but finally Balin took pity on him.

"So, Thorin, how do you fare this fine morning?" he asked cheerfully.

He gave Balin a piercing look and then snorted as he marched solemnly along.

"You seem to know more about how I do than _I_ do," he said glumly.

Balin chuckled.

"Now, now, don't be so down in the mouth," he said. "You deserved your comeuppance last night, and I'd be willing to place a wee wager that it must be a new feeling for you, since you've never met your match before."

"I've ruined any chance I have to win her," Thorin said despondently. "I made a fool out of myself yesterday and everyone was witness to it. I wouldn't be surprised if she pulled out her braids today."

Balin scrunched up his mouth.

"We-ell," he said, "I admit that you were doing better when you were challenging her with battle tactics, but it seems to me that it was only your pride that was bested, so perhaps you'd better say you're sorry and have done with it."

Thorin reared his head up and stared at Balin.

"Kings do not apologize!" he said proudly.

Balin looked at him disapprovingly.

"You're not king yet," he said sharply, "and kings do apologize like anyone else when they're wrong—and you were very wrong, laddie. If she is not worth your pride, Thorin, then you'd best give her up." Then Balin patted him on the back and walked on.

Thorin glowered for a time and then kicked a rock out of his way and trudged back to Grace.

"May I speak to you, Grace?" he asked hesitantly though somewhat heartened to see that she still wore his braids.

"You may," she said as she stared straight ahead.

He fell in line with her, and they walked for some distance as he thought about what to say.

"I am sorry, Grace," he said humbly in a quiet voice, "I let my pride get the best of me in front of the others. I was jealous that Bofur tried for you even though I knew that he was only jesting, and I wanted a quick end to suit my own desires." He ran his hand over his head. "Please forgive me, Grace," he said. "You deserved better than that. You deserve no less than the best that I can give you."

Grace listened and found truth and humility in his words, yet she waited to reply.

"He is almost there," she thought, "but not quite. This is as much about him being king as it is about me."

Finally, Thorin stopped her. He took her hands but could not hear her mind.

"I am undeserving of such an honor," he thought.

"Grace, I ask you to forgive me," he pleaded aloud, now unconcerned who heard him. "I beg you to forgive me even though I know I am undeserving. I am your servant and I accept your judgment." He bowed his head and waited with his hands open.

She nodded now satisfied that the lesson had burned deep. Behind him she saw Balin looking on with approval. They smiled at each other and she touched Thorin's face.

"You are forgiven," she said, "and I have great respect and admiration for your courage in coming to me. You will indeed make a worthy king. We will speak of this no more."

He looked at her with adoration.

"I am truly undeserving," he said, "but I am grateful for your favor." Then he looked out on the fine morning and laughed.


	23. Private Battle

**Chapter 23: Private Battle**

Soon enough they came to the banks of the Anduin or The Great River.

"We are somewhat north of where we should be," Thorin said with a frown. "I don't see the ford to the Forest Road."

Grace looked behind her suddenly.

"What is wrong, Gracie?" Balin asked.

She shook her head.

"I don't know," she said, "it is just a feeling. I cannot put it into words yet. I felt it last night and earlier as well when you came to talk to me."

Thorin looked at her soberly.

"I trust your judgment," he said. "What do you feel?"

She pressed her lips together.

"I do not see anything, Thorin," she said, "but I feel as if we are being watched, as if someone is watching us."

The dwarves looked around them and drew their weapons.

"No," she said, "there is no need for that. The feeling is not one of danger, just that someone is interested in us, in me."

"In you?" Thorin asked with a frown.

"Yes," she said. "Not to harm me, but someone is curious about me." She took a quick breath. "We were being shadowed at night. Now I am sure of it. I remember this same feeling for several nights now since we fought the wargs."

They all stopped and crowded around her.

"I wish I could tell you more," she said. "Whoever it is doesn't want to harm us but somehow he knows something about me and wants to know more."

"He?" Thorin asked.

"I think it is a he," she replied, "but he seems to mean me no harm."

Thorin tightened his hands on his sword and snorted.

"We have not had much good fortune with the males of Middle-earth lately," he said. "We'd best be on our guard."

They looked again at the river. Thorin took off everything but his breeches and waded out into the water.

"It's deep but swimmable," he said.

They all took off everything save shirts and breeches and bundled their clothes, weapons, and packs. Grace kept on her armor and shirt.

"Tie the bundles together with the ropes," Gloin said, "and let's be off."

Thorin and Gloin went with Grace in between them, and the rest followed behind. They made it across without incident, and the dwarves were able to wash on their way over as well. Grace laughed as she saw them splashing around in breeches for her sake and giggled as Bombur fell on Nori. Her gaze, however, kept returning to Thorin, and his impressive physique sent a little thrill through her stomach. His broad shoulders and chest attested to formidable strength and power and through his wet breeches she could see the clear outline of strong muscles. She watched his arms ripple as he pushed Fili under the water after he and Kili together tried to tackle their uncle, and she felt a new sense of pride about being his.

Once they were all across Thorin unpacked his comb and had Grace turn around so he could take care of her hair. He kneeled behind her still shirtless and with long, slow, careful strokes, combed the tangles out of her hair. Then he quickly dressed, and they all redistributed the packs.

"Nicely done, don't you think, Kili?" Fili asked as they watched their uncle with Grace.

Kili grinned. "You mean not wearing a shirt so she could see all of his muscles," he asked, "and then being that close to her without his shirt on while he combed her hair?"

Fili nodded and slapped the back of his hand against his brother's stomach.

"We'd better remember this when we find ours, brother," he said. "Even the way uncle combs her hair is different. It's not like others who pull and yank. It's like he's loving her with his comb."

"And see the look on her face, Fili," Kili said. "If she were a cat she'd be purring."

Grace stood up and looked after Thorin with a slightly dreamy look on her face. Then she pulled on her breeches and vest over her armor.

"Now what will we do for food?" Bombur asked once they were done.

"Over here," called Grace. She had walked some distance away and found an empty house.

"Such flowers!" she said with delight, "such lovely flowers."

"What big fruits and vegetables!" Dori cried as he twiddled his fingers.

"And loaves of bread and sausages," Bofur said as he smacked his lips.

"And ponies," Thorin said as he patted a sorrel mare on the nose.

Grace put her hand on Thorin's arm. "We cannot take them," she said firmly.

Thorin picked up a halter that was hanging nearby and slipped it over the pony's nose.

"Why not?" he asked. "The journey is long and we will pay handsomely for them. We will not steal if that is your concern, Grace."

She shook her head.

"No, Thorin," she said, "I know you wouldn't do such a thing, but that's not what is wrong. You must not take them. I don't know why I know this, but I do."

Thorin looked at her and thought back to his conversation with Galadriel, Elrond, and Gandalf at Rivendell.

"Is she regaining some of her powers?" he thought pensively, "and if so will she soon regain her memory as well?"

He patted her hand in reassurance.

"Very well," he said. "I believe you."

The others argued against Thorin's decision, but Balin supported him having guessed his reasons.

Grace sighed in relief and wrote the owner a note of thanks for the food.

"Should not I write the note as the leader of the company?" Thorin asked.

"No," she said, "because I have a feeling that it's the owner of this house who's been following me."

When they had resupplied, they turned and made their way to Mirkwood.

When they were still several miles from the forest, Thorin called for them to make camp.

"I want us to be fully awake and prepared before we go in there," he said. They found a sheltered spot, and Grace and Bombur prepared the food.

"Your braids are lovely," he said respectfully, "and you could not have a better man than Thorin, my lady."

Grace touched her hair. "This is all so new to me," she said, "but I am enjoying it very much so far."

Thorin overheard and smiled to himself before walking over the Balin to discuss the supplies and plans for the next day.

"Aye," Fili said, "I don't think I'll have to worry about taking over from uncle as king if everything goes as well as we are hoping, my lady."

Grace's smile faltered.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," Bofur said, "no one ever thought that Thorin would find someone to join with and have children, so Fili here was prepared to rule next if Thorin died without an heir."

Grace looked at both of them seriously.

"So the point of all of this is to join to produce children?" she asked.

Fili fidgeted as he began to get uncomfortable with the turn of conversation.

"Well, not entirely, my lady, but, of course, it is expected that the royal line would continue," he said.

Grace put her hand to her forehead in distress.

"Excuse me, please," she said, "I need to take a walk."

Fili turned to Bofur. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

Grace left and walked far enough away to be out of sight, and she sat down in the grass to think.

"He wants children with me," she thought as pain flashed through her temple. "Of course he would, if we become joined, but what if I can't have children?"

Meanwhile, Thorin walked back to the camp to see Fili arguing with Bofur.

"I didn't say anything wrong!" Fili argued as he stood an inch away from Bofur's nose. "It was you who told her too much!"

They turned to see Thorin standing there with his hands on his hips. He did not look happy.

"What exactly did you tell her, and where is she?" he asked.

Both dwarves looked at each other and gulped.

"I believe that children were mentioned," Bofur said at last.

Thorin's eyes hardened. "Where did she go?" he asked harshly.

Grace sat in the tall grass and pulled the beads off of her braids.

"He deserves someone who will give him what he wants," she said to himself, "but I know what he will say, and I won't push him away again."

Thorin came upon her and saw her rolling the beads in her hands, and his heart fell.

"Grace, please tell me you aren't unbraiding your hair," he said softly, and he sat down beside her.

"Thorin," she said quietly, "they told me the part of the purpose of all of this is to produce children, and I'm not sure that I can. You should know that now, so perhaps you would want to unbraid my hair."

She held her hair out to him, but he gently stroked it and laid the braids on her chest.

"Dwarves and human women have mated before and produced children," he said, "so why should it not happen between us should you decide to join with me and become my wife if ever I am so honored?"

Grace's eyes filled with tears. "But I'm not a human woman," she said. "I'm a Therian and, and…." Suddenly, pain shot through her head and her whole body and she went rigid. Thorin grabbed her in shock as her eyes opened wide.

"Grace! Grace!" he cried. "What's happening?" Almost as though she was trying to push something away from her, she slowly raised her palms.

"Help me!" she whispered. He took one hand and placed it on his face and closed his eyes.

In her mind, he saw the evil that she fought in her realm reaching down to her now and wrapping around her throat. She thrashed and fought, and he grabbed it and tried to pry it off of her, but it both froze and burned his hands. Grimacing in pain, he tore at it as it tightened around her in a coil.

"I will not give in to you," she said in a strangled voice as she began to glow brighter in response. "I will never turn! Never! I will never join you and betray my people or Thorin. I will fight you forever!"

She began to sing the song she knew but in a choked whisper. She flashed with light, and the evil slackened its hold on her. She sang more strongly remembering the words of her people, and Thorin gripped it and wrestled it off of her. It recoiled and poised to strike Grace again when Thorin faced it down.

"I love her!" he cried. "I love her and you will not have her if it costs me my life! Fight me instead, you bastard!" Thorin helped her up and stood between her and the swirling shape, and with both of them standing their ground it retreated and disappeared.

Slowly Grace opened her eyes and clutched her throat. Thorin held her close and stroked her hair.

"My love," he said, "my sweet love, it's gone now, and I feel certain it won't return knowing now that you're not alone. I'm here to protect you and it cannot win against us both."

"He doesn't want me to know things that I can use to fight against him," she said her voice still hoarse. "He wants me to stay weak here, so he can turn me against my kin and against you." She reached up and stroked Thorin's hair and his face. "But I won't ever let that happen."

"He?" Thorin asked. Grace nodded and winced as she tried to swallow.

"I know now that he was once one of us but turned for lust of power," she said, "and there are others with him who tired of serving life and want to control it instead. Now they seek allies, and they have found me here alone."

"You are not alone," Thorin said fiercely. "You will never be alone as long as I am alive." He held her until she stopped trembling and could breathe easily. Then she cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes.

"Thorin, you should know something about me before we go any further together," she said. "I was not born in the sense that life here begins. I know now that I was made as I am now, and so I cannot produce life the way that others here can. I can strengthen and encourage it, but I cannot have children. I understand if you wish to end our courtship, and I would not think badly of you. I would not want you tied to me to protect me if that means giving up what you want and need for your kingdom."

Thorin looked down at her in his arms where he knew she belonged.

"I want you, Grace," he said, "and while children would be welcome I would be perfectly content with just you for the rest of my life."

She weakly held out the beads in her hand and smiled, and Thorin quickly reattached them to her braids. Then he carried her back to camp, and she fell asleep in his arms.

The other dwarves crowded around her in worry, but Thorin told them that she had had another painful episode and would recover with a short rest. Then he looked at Fili and Bofur and assured them that what had happened was not their fault.

"What happened there, Thorin?" Balin asked. "She looks very bad off."

Thorin shook his head with his lips pressed tightly together. "The enemy of her people has found her," he said seriously, "but it is an enemy of the mind and spirit, and in standing together we fought it off."

Balin looked at Grace and nodded. "I understand, laddie," he said. "I touched her once, and I understand now that there is much more out there than can be seen with our eyes."

Thorin looked hard at Balin. "I am changing the rules of courtship, Balin," he said. "This evil is out to corrupt her and use her powers to destroy us all, but together we can defeat it. It is gone now, but I will sleep with her and stay as close as I can to her in case it comes back. This is not about me or my desires, but Gandalf and the elves warned me that she and her kind have the power to destroy Middle-earth if they can be turned, and we must not allow that to happen."

Balin shook his head sadly. "Gracie would die before she'd let that happen," he said.

Thorin sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."


	24. Mind Over Mirkwood

**Hi there. Let me know what you think of this chapter. I'm not sure that it works, but since Mirkwood is such a gloomy place I didn't want to stay there long, so I sped up events. Also, since Bilbo isn't with them, I figured that there was no way to recreate all the drama that the book-and I'm sure movie-has.**

* * *

**Chapter 24: Mind Over Mirkwood**

That night Thorin placed their bedrolls together. Grace nodded, not needing an explanation, and they lay down together.

"You need not fear me, Grace," Thorin said softly. "I will take no liberties with you, but I need to be near you for a time to make sure we can fight together if need be."

Grace smiled and played with a lock of hair that had fallen on Thorin's cheek. She stroked his braids and smoothed the hair over his ear. His eyes darkened with longing, and hers sparkled with contentment.

"I am happy to be near you, Thorin," she said, "I know that I am safe with you."

He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arm around her waist and entwined his fingers with hers. He relished being close to her but wished it was under different circumstances. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her lips and long neck, but he quickly squelched his desire as he remembered why they needed to be together.

"Will this let me know if you need help?" he asked.

She nodded. "As long as your skin is touching mine, you will know," she said. Then she smiled impishly. "But it will probably be best that we keep our dreams apart otherwise."

Thorin chuckled and it rumbled deep in his chest.

"Yes, it probably will be," he said. Then he kissed her on the nose and closed his eyes.

They both slept soundly and awoke together smiling, their hands still together.

"Are you well?" he asked as he curled a lock of her hair around his finger.

She nodded and sighed with a smile. "Yes, because I knew you were with me," she said.

The company readied quickly to make the most of the day and soon they reached Mirkwood.

"There is the touch of evil here, Thorin," she said as they faced the dense forest of twisted trees and tangled vines.

"The same evil we faced, Grace?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "But it is the effects I feel, not the evil itself," she said.

The dwarves breathed in the dank smell of decay and shuddered.

"Unfortunately, there is no help for it," Thorin said. "We must go through here. We will head south to the Old Forest Road."

Grace shook her head.

"No, Thorin," she said. "There is danger that way, and we will not be able to pass. There is, however, a secret path that the elves use near this house that we should be able to find," and she hunted among the tangled vines.

"How do you know this, Gracie?" Balin asked. She shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know," she said, "but it is almost as if someone is whispering answers to me."

She pushed some vines aside and looked into the gloom.

"Here it is!" she said decisively. Thorin looked in with Balin, and they nodded their heads.

"I'd rather not travel on the road of the elves, but it now seems to be the only road open to us," Thorin said. "Keep a sharp eye out everyone. It is going to get very dark," and they entered the forest.

Immediately, an oppressive gloom closed in around them, and random shafts of sunlight cast the trees into frightening shapes. Ori yelped when he thought he saw a large specter looming out of the corner of his eye. Grace shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around her. Thorin led on with grim silence as they left the sunlight behind.

Forward they went, but it was hard to see until Grace pulled out her swords and used them as torches.

"Would they still work if I held them?" Thorin asked.

"I don't know," Grace answered, and she handed one over to him. The moment he took it the light went out. Grace took back the sword and held it to her mouth. Then she gave it back to Thorin. When he took it this time, it stayed lit.

"What made the difference?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I commanded it to take care of you because you are my lover," she said. The sword in his hand illuminated his broad smile while the dwarves relaxed knowing that they would not be completely in the dark.

Grace hummed her song, and as she did so the air became cleaner and the mood lighter. For as long as she sang and hummed, her glow kept the oppression at bay. They walked until their weariness overtook them, and Thorin called for them to make camp.

"There's no way to tell if where we are is safe," he said, "but since we are still on the road this is as good a place as any."

They ate berries and fruit with loaves of bread and butter as they gave thanks again to the owner of the empty house.

"We shouldn't start a fire here," Thorin said when Bombur ventured the hope of cooking sausages, "too dangerous with all the brush and leaves around."

Later that night all were asleep save Thorin and Dwalin on guard duty when Grace lifted her head and looked off into the distance.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, as she got up and stood with her face turned away.

"Don't follow me," she whispered, and she placed her lit sword on the ground next to Dwalin.

Thorin shook his head and grabbed her arm.

"I won't let you go out there alone," he said in a low voice, "especially since we know that someone is watching you. If you go, I go too. We must stay together."

"No!" she said in alarm, "You will get hurt. You can't go; you must promise me!"

Thorin stood his ground.

"You must trust me in this," she said, "you must, on your honor Thorin Oakenshield. I am not in danger now."

He put his hands on his hips and looked down as he exhaled hard.

"Everything in me says this is wrong, Grace," he said, "but because I trust you and you ask it, I will agree. I won't follow you, but I will go with you for some distance and wait. I must know where you are going should you have need of me."

She nodded reluctantly, and they left Dwalin at the campsite. Swiftly and silently they moved through the forest. Grace looked at Thorin with surprised admiration.

"You don't move like the others," she whispered. "You make almost no noise. I was afraid that you would be more like Gloin who makes much noise awake or asleep."

Thorin chuckled silently.

"But at least we always know where he is," he whispered back.

Grace covered her mouth to stifle her giggles and then looked serious.

"He is waiting for me," she said, and she put her hand on Thorin's shoulder. "You must stay here."

Running lightly, she quickly disappeared into the forest. Far ahead Thorin could see a large shape moving toward her, and he almost leapt from his place, but he remembered his promise and stayed hidden despite his better judgment. After about an hour, Grace came back to him, and they quickly returned to the campsite.

"What was that?" he asked her. "It looked like an enormous bear."

"It was," she said, "by night anyway. By day he is the man who lives in the house we passed. Beorn is a skin-changer and the last of his kind."

Dwalin made a sound of incredulity, but Thorin looked thoughtful.

"So how does he know about you?" he asked.

Grace smiled joyfully and patted Thorin's arm.

"He met up with the two wargs I helped," she said, "and they told him about me. He was curious to meet me, and now he has promised to help us by providing protection and food while we are in the forest."

Thorin considered what she said.

"He isn't angry then that we took some of his food?" he asked.

"No," she said. "In fact, he was impressed that we left a note and payment for it. He was also quite pleased that we did not take his ponies since he considers them his children and would have been furious if he discovered them gone."

Dwalin smiled.

"Well," he said, "I'm glad that then that Thorin made the right decision because I wouldn't have wanted to face an angry bear in the dark.

Grace leaned forward and put her hands on their arms.

"Best of all," she said excitedly, "Beorn and the wargs have promised to help Pearl and Steel find their way safely to Erebor should they come across them." Her eyes shone with delight, and both Dwalin and Thorin felt their hearts warm.

"For your sake, my lady," said Dwalin, his gruff voice rough with emotion, "I sincerely hope they make it."

The days following seemed like nights as they walked solemnly along, but they all were grateful for Grace's swords and the brighter glow she made as she sang softly and helped Thorin lead the way, and they were also cheered to know that they would not go hungry. Every evening Grace would meet Beorn in the forest and come back laden with food and other necessities. One night she came back to see Thorin and Balin in discussion with Dwalin.

"What are you all talking about?" she asked. They turned to her in concern.

"We are grateful, my lady, that you're helping us," Dwalin said, "but…."

"But we don't want you under obligation to anyone," finished Balin.

She looked at them with confusion.

"He is my friend," she said simply, "what cause is there for concern?"

"What does he want from you in exchange for all he has done for us?" Thorin asked. "We don't want you to be beholden to him for our sakes."

Grace sighed with annoyance.

"I know that we have seen much of what is worst in Middle-earth," she said, "but not everyone has selfish motives or expects something in exchange. Some just enjoy giving for its own sake and ask only a friend in return."

Thorin thought on her words until evening.

"I will go with you to meet him this time," he said decisively. "I want to know for myself what he wants from you."

Grace shook her head, but Thorin put his hand on her arm.

"Please, Grace," he said. "I cannot wait here helpless."

She looked unhappy but agreed.

"You must wait though until I call you, Thorin," she said seriously. "He will not appreciate being surprised."

That evening Grace and Thorin left again, and he waited some distance until he saw Beorn approach. She put her hand on Beorn's paw, and they stood silently until he heard her voice calling for him. Slowly he approached with his hands up. Beorn rocked back and forth and grunted at Grace.

"I have explained who you all are and who I am to those in Middle-earth," she said. "He knows everything about our quest."

Thorin looked at her with dismay.

"I'm not sure it was wise to tell him everything," he said. "There are many who would seek to stop us or even kill us for the treasure of Erebor."

Beorn snuffled at Grace and she nodded her head.

"Beorn doesn't care for such things," she said calmly. "He is like me in that he prefers living things. His treasure is in his gardens and his ponies and other friends."

"And what does he want with you?" he asked carefully. Beorn looked at Thorin and tapped his paw on Grace's shoulder.

"Another friend is all, Thorin," she said happily. Thorin looked at them for a moment and smiled in relief.

"Please tell him if he doesn't understand me that I honor his heart and judgment in choosing you as a friend," he said, "and I hope that he will consider all of us his friends."

Grace touched Beorn's paw and smiled. He snuffled at her again and, dropping to all fours, waddled off into the woods.

When they came back to the campsite, Grace related all that had happened, and Balin and Dwalin exhaled in relief.

"He did tell me some things to beware of here," she said. "He said…." Suddenly, she stopped and listened.

"Get everyone up, Thorin," she cried, "They're here."

Thorin shouted for the dwarves to arm themselves, and they all quickly jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons.

"They'll be coming down from the trees!" she shouted.

"What will?" Thorin asked.

"Giant spiders," she replied as she tapped her swords and illuminated the darkness above.

Suddenly, they all heard angry hisses and chittering. Looking up, they all saw dozens of huge and hairy spiders in the trees above descending on them from thick ropes of silk. Their bodies were large and bulky with broad, bulbous abdomens and legs as thick as large tree branches. Their eyes were solid black and the size of large pebbles, and their mandibles clicked and clacked with hunger. With their legs creaking and scratching against tree bark, the first spiders quickly descended and landed on the ground preparing to eat their evening meal. The dwarves quickly turned back to back and readied their weapons.

One spider snapped at Grace with its mandibles before she stabbed it between the eyes, while Thorin cut the legs off another as it tried to grab him and haul him up to the trees. Kili shot several before they could reach the ground, and they hung just above their heads twitching as they died and dripping a sticky, milky liquid. Fili slashed two as they were going for Thorin while his back was turned. Ori cudgeled one over the head that had grabbed Nori by the scruff of the neck, Bofur speared two, and Balin slashed three in the abdomen. Bifur axed two between the eyes, and Gloin and Oin together took down four with an ax and staff. Dwalin cut the heads off of two who had backed him against a tree, and Dori axed the legs off of a particularly large and angry spider that was chasing down Ori. Two spiders had grabbed Bombur and were attempting to drag him off when he rolled over and crushed them.

More descended from the trees, and the dwarves and Grace looked around them, knowing that they were outnumbered. Grace knew her fire was too dangerous to use in this forest, so she close her eyes and concentrated and then called for the dwarves to step back. She stood under the spiders as they descended and shouted the words from her song in a strong voice. The dwarves did not understand the language, but they felt waves of power coming from her words as they issued challenges that could not be withstood. The spiders stopped immediately and pushed together as if to break through to the ground, but Grace continued to speak commandingly and every word sounded to Thorin like it echoed from the sacred halls of his people, from any unsullied place where peace and purity reigned.

"By Durin," Dwalin breathed as he and then the other dwarves looked around and saw the trees around them slowly being restored to their healthy state and waves of green, sweet-smelling grass growing around them. After one last effort to reach them, the spiders turned as one and skittered away, leaving the healthy part of the forest for the dank decay.

Grace looked down wearily and Thorin caught her by the arm before she stumbled.

"By Erebor, what was that?" Thorin asked her with an awed whisper. She was too winded to answer at first, but she looked at him and smiled.

"Words have power, as you know, to heal or to harm, to bring peace or cause war," she said softly when she caught her breath. "But there are words powerful enough to fight evil. You should know, you did the same for me."

Thorin looked puzzled. "I stood up to it is all," he said. Grace shook her head and smiled.

"You may not have had the words, Thorin," she said, "but your heart spoke for you, and that is why he left."

Then they all looked at the tangled mass of hairy dead spiders, saw the milky liquid oozing on the ground, and shuddered.

"I don't care if we have to walk in the dead of night," Kili said, "I don't want to stay here any longer."

Thorin and the rest agreed whole-heartedly, and they all packed up and walked a mile up to road to set up a new campsite.

The next day they walked more slowly as they kept looking around to see if there were more spiders nearby.

"Beorn said that they come out at night to catch sleeping prey," Grace said to ease their minds. "We need not worry about them during daylight."

Balin snorted.

"If you can call this daylight," he grumbled.


	25. Confronting the Elves

Enter Legolas as promised! Please review!

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**Chapter 25: Confronting the Elves**

That night they set up camp, and Grace again went out to meet Beorn. After spending a good amount of time with him, she happily waved goodbye and headed back to camp when she felt that something was wrong. She returned to find all the dwarves gone. She walked around with her swords alight looking for clues of their whereabouts.

"There are other footprints here," she thought, "many and with a light step. They were taken." Then she smelled woodland scents of cinnamon and honey. "And I know by whom," she thought angrily.

As she tracked them she thought of each of her friends and worried for their safety. Then she thought of Thorin and her heart pounded painfully in her chest. She stopped for a moment in surprise as a rush of tears flooded her eyes.

"Is this love?" she asked herself. "Is this what he feels for me?"

She grew thoughtful as she remembered all that he had told her and let her see in his heart.

"He is brave to share his heart so freely," she thought with new respect and admiration. "It takes a truly courageous heart to be weak in front of the one you love."

As dawn broke, she suddenly threw her hood over her head and held her swords out in front of her.

"I know you are there," she said warningly, "so come out slowly."

An elf with long, white-blond hair wearing woodland green stepped from behind the tree several yards away. He was more beautiful than handsome, tall and lithe with clear blue eyes and elegance of movement. His bow was drawn with his arrow aiming for her heart.

"Who are you and what do you do here?" he asked firmly with a light timbre. He looked at her face. "Step out of the shadows," he commanded.

Grace stepped into one of the rare shafts of light in the forest as he carefully walked closer.

"An elven cloak but not an elf," he said. "Remove your hood," and he pulled his bow tight.

Grace thought on her time in Middle-earth, and she remembered Thorin's lessons on battle tactics and weighed them against her own preference for direct confrontation, and she put down her swords.

"I'm done with hiding," she thought. "Whether I conceal who I am or not it doesn't seem to matter—the outcome is the same, and this time it will be to my advantage."

Grace lifted her hood off of her head, and he quickly drew breath. Keeping her hands in view she slowly took her golden circlet out of her pack and put it on.

"I am what your people call a Therian," she said with her chin held high and her lilac eyes gleaming, "and I am here with my friends the dwarves led by Thorin son of Thrain whom King Thranduil has taken to his palace. I am going there now to retrieve them so that we may continue on our way."

The elf stared for a moment as if in a trance and then leaned his bow against the tree trunk and bowed gracefully.

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil," he said, "and I mean you and Thorin Oakenshield no harm."

Grace stepped closer to him.

"Can you talk to me this way as can Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond?" she asked silently,

Legolas looked surprised.

"So you have met them then?" he thought to her.

Grace smiled, and Legolas felt his heart warm.

"Take my hand, so we may understand each other," she said. He offered it, and she held it between her own. Then they closed their eyes.

Legolas saw everything that had happened to her and the dwarves since she came to Middle-earth and wondered at the purity and goodness of her heart. He marveled at her powers when he relived the destruction of the goblin lair through her eyes. He also saw Thorin's devotion to her, the claim he made on her, and her growing feelings in return.

"They head to Erebor," he thought, "to reclaim his homeland."

He saw the dangers they had faced and how they had brought them together, and he knew that they had many more obstacles to overcome, his father being one of them.

"My lady," he thought to her, "I am not like my father who I know has something that sometimes resembles Thror's sickness, a greed for wealth and power. I see in your mind Thorin's grief at what this greed has done to his family, and I share his pain for what it has done to mine. I was not able to convince my father to aid the dwarves when they were in need, but had it been my decision we would have fought with them to the death."

Grace smiled brightly at Legolas and spontaneously embraced him. He was startled for a moment but then gently held her close and permitted himself a moment's regret that he had no hope of winning her heart.

"I will be most honored if you would consider me your friend, my lady," he said, "and I will do what I can to speed you all on your way."

Grace confided in him her plan of action and recommended that he not involve himself.

"I will not have you at odds with your father to no purpose," she said. "I believe that all will be accomplished if I alone am the adversary. Perhaps later you can help your father see reason since something is wrong in this land and will need all people of goodwill to fight it."

Legolas nodded in agreement.

"We also have felt the creep of evil," he said. "It grows daily but will not reveal itself."

Grace's looked around them and pressed her lips together.

"I have felt this before," she said, "when I was fighting with my kin in my realm, but I did not expect to feel it here." Then she told Legolas of her battle with He Who Turned.

They both stood still and listened for a time and felt the growing chill. Then she looked into Legolas' eyes.

"I know that Thorin is still very angry with the elves for not coming to the aid of his people when the dragon came," she said, "but I will do my best to help him see reason as you do your father."

"Do you love him, my lady?" Legolas asked softly, but then he shook his head. "I do not require an answer; I already know what you will say."

Grace put her hand on his arm.

"I believe I do," she said, "but my heart is not so small that I cannot love my friends as well."

Then he smiled at her and as they ran through the forest, Legolas told her where the dwarves were being held and where to find the front gate.

"I will be quietly at hand should you have need of me," he said as the neared the front entrance, "and now I bid you farewell." He bowed and melted into the forest.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Grace quickly took off her clothes, boots, and cloak and stuffed them into her pack. Her armor solidified, and when she was ready she ran until she saw a wide path lined with healthy straight oak trees that soared above the ground and made a canopy with the last of the autumn leaves. The air smelled fresh and clean, and the trees ended at the base of a small mountain. Large curved oaken doors led inside the mountain, and sentries dressed in green and brown armor and holding bows at the ready stood out front.

Grace walked calmly up to the sentries.

"I wish to see King Thranduil immediately," she said to them.

They looked at her in shock, but one reflexively asked, "And whom shall we say wishes to see him?"

She smiled. "A Therian," she said.

The Elven king shifted impatiently on his ornate wooden throne in his throne room of carved paneling and twisted tree trunks for columns and tapped his fingers against his mouth as he waited for her to be admitted. He was tall and blond and wore a light crown of fall flowers and woven forthysia vines. He held a carved oaken staff and was dressed in robes of green silk. Unlike Legolas, his expression was somewhat condescending, but he looked uncharacteristically shaken when the sentry first approached with the news.

"A what?" he had asked in utter disbelief when the sentry bowed before him and told him who had requested an audience. "That's not possible."

Grace walked down with the other sentry and took note of her surroundings.

"These halls do not resemble descriptions of Erebor," she thought. "They are much shallower and less open. There is much wood used here, though," and she smiled to herself. "If my guess is correct, King Thranduil may find himself needing a new throne if he is not cooperative."

"It cannot be," Thranduil thought as the other sentry knocked on the door and awaited permission to enter. "A Therian here?"

The doors swung open as did Thranduil's mouth when Grace strode confidently into his chambers, her golden glow lighting up his throne room and the jewel in her forehead blazing with light.

She inclined her head as he sat unmoving, and she chuckled to herself.

"I wonder what Thorin would think of my tactics?" she thought.

"King Thranduil, my name is Lady Grace, and I am what your people call a Therian," she said smoothly, "and I know that you are holding Thorin Oakenshield and his companions here. I wish to see him to ensure that he is well, and I further ask that you release them all so that they may continue on their way."

The Elven king gaped at her, but he scowled at the name of Thorin Oakenshield.

"And may I ask what business of this is yours, my lady?" he asked snidely. "Surely you did not come all the way from your realm to inquire about the welfare of a dwarf?"

Grace took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I am traveling with them," she said, "and as a member of their company, I share an equal measure of responsibility for their welfare."

"Do you now indeed?" Thranduil asked as he took in her appearance and wondered at her motives. Crooking his finger, he beckoned the sentry and ordered him to bring Thorin to him. While they waited he looked at Grace speculatively.

"And just how do you come to show yourself now when none of your kind have ever moved so openly among us?" he asked as he stroked his chin, "and why are you traveling with Thorin Oakenshield of all people."

Grace stifled her rising anger at his scorn and answered calmly.

"That is no concern of yours at present, my lord," she said, "but I will answer any question you wish when I see Thorin."

The doors swung open again, and Grace turned to see Thorin looking haggard with scratches and cuts on his face from being herded through the forest at night. Instantly, her anger flared, and she struggled to keep from turning Thranduil's throne into a funeral pyre.

"Grace!" Thorin cried when he looked up and saw her, and she went to him and put her arms around him. He held her tightly and kissed her temple.

"Thank Durin you are all right," he said gratefully.

Thranduil watched their obvious devotion to each other with envy, and then he noticed the braids and beads in her hair.

"Well," he said, "I believe that one of my questions is answered." He stood up, but Grace held out her hand.

"Don't bother to stand if you mean to appraise me as if I were an artwork or a piece of fruit in a bowl," she said angrily. "I've had my fill of that here."

Thranduil slowly sat down.

"You think that Thorin's obvious feelings for you are based on your merits and not your appearance?" he said with silken malice. "Dwarves have always coveted jewels and precious metals. You credit him with too much nobility, my lady, while you suspect my motives—no doubt the result of spending too much time in his company. If he had told you the truth he would have said that I sent my people armed for battle to help him and his kin and we would have if I thought that there was any chance of defeating Smaug. I did only what was best for my people when I saw that the cause was hopeless. He would have done the same in my position."

Before Thorin could speak Grace answered in his defense.

"Yes, he would have considered the risk to his people, my lord," she said heatedly. "That is the mark of any responsible leader, but then he and his people would have fought alongside you no matter the risk or the cost. _That_ is nobility of heart, and _that_ is why I am with him!"

Thranduil sat back nonplussed and decided on a different tactic.

"So why are you all traveling through my kingdom?" he asked.

Grace looked at Thorin and touched his hand.

"Trust me," she said. He nodded and she turned to face Thranduil.

"We are going to reclaim Erebor for Thorin's people," she said.

Thranduil sat back with a smile.

"So I surmised," he said with satisfaction. "I have a claim on that treasure."

Thorin grumbled loudly, but she stepped forward.

"Oh?" Grace asked with mock innocence. "I was not aware that your people worked the mines alongside the dwarves."

Thorin smirked while Thranduil's lips twisted.

"My claim is not based on labor," he said smoothly.

"Or perhaps the dwarves owe you for goods or services rendered in the distant past since you were certainly of no help when they needed it most," Grace said sarcastically as she stood squarely in front of Thranduil with her hands on her hips. Thorin turned a chuckle into a cough while Thranduil glared at him.

"No," he said, turning to Grace, "no, my claim is that the treasure is too great for anyone one people to have and so it must be shared."

Grace snorted in disgust.

"And if the situation were reversed and you had the treasure, you, of course, would be as magnanimous?" she asked.

Thranduil smiled.

"I see we will not agree on this," he said silkily, "but if Thorin here will swear on his honor to leave you with me as a ward of my kingdom, I will relinquish any claim on Erebor and even speed him and his company on their way."

Grace paused but Thorin did not, and he stepped in front of her.

"I do not own her, Thranduil, that I can sell or barter her," he said his voice harsh with indignation. "She goes where she wills, and it is my honor that she chooses to go with me."

Grace looked at Thorin lovingly, but he was too angry at Thranduil to notice. Then she tapped Thorin on the arm and whispered for him to move away from her.

"My lord," she said, turning back to Thranduil, "I suppose I could have snuck the dwarves out through the empty barrels in your larder, if I had a mind to, but I came to you openly and honestly, so in that spirit I have a counter proposal. You will provide us with ponies and supplies, and I will not destroy your palace, starting with your throne and staff."

Thranduil looked down on her with a mocking smile.

"Never have I heard of a Therian doing harm," he said with a flick of his hand.

Her glow grew brighter as she looked at him with open anger.

"Here much from the goblins these days, do you?" she said bitingly as he looked at her in shock. She took off her pack and tossed it to Thorin. Then she stood before Thranduil and burst into flames.

"Before you can run for the doors I will destroy you all!" she raged, and she threw a fireball that burned Thranduil's staff out of his hand and another that reduced his throne to ash underneath him. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees and held out his palm in fear as she stood flaming before him. The wooden floor beneath her began to smoke and char.

"Mercy!" he cried.

Thorin looked at his terrified face and was surprised to feel compassion for him. Then he looked at Grace, and fear struck his heart. He strode quickly in front of Thranduil and held out his hands.

"Grace! Grace!" he cried. "Do not do this! Do not debase yourself! You will never forgive yourself if you hurt him. Grace please!"

She saw the love for her in his eyes, and she smiled and extinguished the flames in her hands. Thranduil cowered on the floor before her, and she glanced down at him with satisfaction.

"Now you will release the dwarves immediately and provide them with ponies and supplies," she said as her eyes burned with anger. "You will be paid handsomely for them, although you do not deserve it. Remember, my lord, that it was Thorin who saved your life and the lives of your people today. It is because he is compassionate and honorable that you retain your kingdom and your life. Do not forget it!"

Thranduil nodded humbly and left to personally oversee the dwarves' release and their provisions, but Thorin looked at Grace with dismay and feared for her heart. He ran his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, but when he started to speak to her he noticed that she was gone. He went to look for her around the corner behind the pile of ash that was Thranduil's throne but stopped when he heard voices.

"Very well-played, my lady," said the undeniably male voice of an elf. "I confess that I would have been afraid myself had I not known in advance what you were planning, and you were right about Thorin. Very well-played indeed."

Grace giggled endearingly.

"I think I even scared myself!" she said. They laughed softly together, and Thorin felt his ears burning as he realized that it was all an act, a ruse that she devised with someone else. He was both relieved that she was in no danger of corruption and angry to hear her talk so familiarly with someone who would surely be another admirer and perhaps opponent in combat. He leaned in to listen as jealousy took hold of his heart.


	26. Grace Makes Her Choice

**A nice little chapter before things start getting heavy. Please review!**

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**Chapter 26: Grace Makes Her Choice**

Legolas held Grace's eyes anxiously since he dared not hold her anywhere else. Thorin was close by, and he knew how protective and possessive dwarves could be, although in Grace's case he thought it entirely justified. He knew he had no chance, but he could not bear her to leave just yet.

"When will I see you again, my lady?" he asked softly. "You have made an enduring mark on my heart, and I would not wish for this to be our last meeting."

Grace reached up and touched his cheek.

"You know where my life is, Legolas," she said fondly, "but you are my friend and we will see each other again when all is done." He nodded and smiled, pleased that he would have a place in her life.

Thorin snorted and rounded the corner to see Legolas kissing Grace's hand. He could not challenge the elegant elf prince because she had offered her hand to him, but Thorin's hands itched to pull out his sword and make a stand nonetheless.

"Humph!" Thorin said with his hands on his hips. "I am very sorry to interrupt this tender scene, but we had best be leaving."

Grace smiled widely and took his hand to meet Legolas.

"Thorin, I wish for you to meet Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil," she said happily. "He met me in the forest and helped me to find you."

Legolas bowed gracefully while Thorin glared at him.

"And how many times have you met him in the forest, might I inquire?" he asked tightly.

Legolas smiled with understanding and said, "Only once, my lord, when my arrow was aimed at her heart, but now I am most grateful for her friendship, and I take my leave." He bowed again, looked at Grace with a hint of longing, and left quietly.

"Thorin," Grace said reproachfully after Legolas had left, "he is not a threat to you. You have no cause to be jealous."

Thorin's brow furrowed as he thought of Grace and the striking elf prince together.

"If you had met him at another time might you not have been willing to let _him_ court you?" he asked irritably. "Sometimes I feel like the only reason I have any standing in your opinion is that I met you first."

Grace exhaled in frustration.

"Is that so?" she asked. "Do you think I have so little discrimination or steadfastness that I give my favor to whomever stands before me at the time? Is that what you think of me?"

Thorin shook his head and sighed.

"Forgive me," he said. "I was in that cell worrying for you out there alone, knowing what you face, only to find out that you have been with a prince whose reputation for grace and honor is known far and wide. I suppose I wonder why you would want to be with me when you can have much taller, younger-looking, and more handsome and elegant men of honor. You look no older than nineteen, but I'm turning gray, and I'm old enough to be your great-grandfather."

Grace laughed. "You'd be surprised if I told you how old I really am," she said smiling, "although time has no place in our realm."

"Still," Thorin said, "you could have anyone you want."

She stepped back and looked at him appraisingly.

"Is it true then that all your words of love are based only on my appearance as Thranduil suggests?" she asked. Thorin scoffed and shook his head.

"Of course not," he said forcefully. "I admit that your loveliness draws me, but it is your heart and mind that hold me fast. If you were a dwarf woman of only average appearance I would still be as much in love with you as I am now."

Grace smiled into his eyes.

"So why do you think it's different for me?" she asked. "Some are only brave or noble or young or tall, but to me you are all those things spread through all that you are and much more besides, but if you must know I think you very handsome, Thorin Oakenshield."

She stepped up to him with an impish look. "I'm glad that we are out of Mirkwood," she said. "I miss you combing my hair. You still have to win me, Thorin, but you are the only one I will allow to."

Thorin dropped his head in acknowledgement and relief, and then he kissed her hands and held them to his chest.

"I am sorry, my heart," he said, almost keeping the edge out of his voice. "I will try to be more understanding of your friends—even though most of them seem to be men."

As quickly as he could, Thranduil sent them off and retired to his chambers to think while Legolas managed a quiet word to Thorin in the woods.

"I will do what I can to help my father relinquish his resentment, Thorin Oakenshield," he said, "and I want you to know that my friendship extends to you as well."

Thorin nodded shortly.

"I thank you, Legolas Greenleaf," he said. "I hope we will meet again under happier circumstances."

The dwarves nodded to him as they passed, and Grace turned and pulled the hood of her cloak off of her head and waved farewell. It was rapidly turning colder as winter approached, and the dwarves set their minds on the task ahead.

"Aye," Bofur said. "I am happy to leave there, but I must say that the food was good."

As they traveled, Grace slowed her pony to ride alongside Balin.

"To what do I owe this honor, Gracie?" Balin asked with a grin. "I have missed our conversations."

"I have a question," she said looking puzzled. "Is it wrong for me to have friends who are men? Thorin seems to mind very much, and he gets jealous of even honorable men who do not challenge his rights. I don't understand why he should be angry at men who treat me well."

Balin stroked his beard and sighed.

"Well, lass," he said, "that's not an easy question to answer, but while you see friends, Thorin sees competitors for your love and your hand."

Grace pursed her lips in confusion.

"But I am only allowing him to try and win me," she said, "and I am wearing his braids and beads, so what cause should there be for concern?"

Balin looked at her knowingly.

"But will he ever, lass?" he said in a low voice so the others would not hear. "He is always trying and never succeeding. That would frustrate any man, and all others remain the enemy in the meantime."

Grace grew angry.

"You were the one who told me not to make it easy for him," she whispered back as she glared at Balin. "Now you are saying that I'm making this too hard?"

Balin acknowledged the truth of her words with a bob of his head.

"Yes," he said quietly as he tugged on his mustache, "you have a point there. I admit that courting is not an easy business, but lass, do you not know how beautiful you are inside and out and how every man who sees you wants you for his own?"

Grace shook her head.

"That's not true, Balin," she said. "You and the other dwarves do not. None of you has ever even tried to court me as Thorin has."

Balin smiled. "That is because our respect and affection for our Thorin are too great to deny him what he wants so badly," he said fondly. "Besides, we lot are too old and ugly or fool-headed to think ourselves up to snuff for a fine lady like yourself."

Grace smiled and leaned over to kiss Balin on the cheek.

"Don't underestimate yourselves," she said affectionately. Then she grew serious.

"But what do I do?" she said. "I don't want to hurt Thorin, but I also don't want to act different than myself with others."

Balin looked at her hard.

"Do you love Thorin?" he asked. "Do you love him the same way that he loves you?"

She scrunched her mouth.

"Do I love him?" she asked. "Yes, I think so. I think that I'm feeling what he does, but this is all so new to me that I'm not sure."

Balin looked at her shrewdly.

"And how would you feel if Thorin were badly injured or killed?" he asked.

Immediately her eyes welled with tears and she looked stricken as she choked back a sob.

Balin smiled widely and winked at her.

"I think you've answered your question," he said. "Now when other men approach you and you see interest or love in their eyes, you'll know how to help them and Thorin—before he challenges them to combat as we both know he would."

They rode and camped along the Forest River. The dwarves took the opportunity to wash the dirt of Thranduil's dungeons off of themselves and out of their clothes. Grace washed privately first, while Thorin paced, desperately trying and failing to keep his mind on other matters and not on her glorious beauty, and then the dwarves jumped in with their breeches on. Thranduil had been generous and not only packed all possible necessities but also soaps and perfumed oils.

"Oy!" Nori said as Bofur dumped a bottle of oil over his head and rubbed it in. "You smell like a blooming garden. You weren't supposed to use the whole bottle, you fool!"

Bofur sniffed and shrugged.

"I think that one was meant for the lass," Gloin said gruffly as he waved away the pungent odor wafting under his nose.

As Fili got out of the water, Grace looked at his finely muscled torso and arms and saw some black markings she had not noticed before. Then she looked at Thorin and Kili who were still in the water and saw that they had similar markings on them.

"What is that on your arm?" she asked Fili curiously.

Fili looked up in surprise as he dried off, his blond hair and braids swinging around him. Grace had never taken particular notice of him before, but he grinned and flexed his bicep for her showing off two crossed war axes.

"Why, my lady, that is my tattoo signifying my place as a prince of Durin's House," he said proudly.

Thorin and Kili stepped out of the water to dry off, and Thorin looked over to see Fili showing off for Grace. His face darkened as his brows drew together and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You know he doesn't mean anything by it, uncle," Kili said hesitantly.

His words broke the tension, and Thorin patted his arm and smiled though it did not reach his eyes.

"I know, lad," he said as he kept his eyes trained on the pair, "I know, but he's still playing with fire."

They walked over to where Grace was pointing to the space between the axe heads of Fili's tattoo.

"And what is that between the axes on Thorin's arm?" she asked.

Fili looked over at his uncle coming toward him and immediately straightened up. Thorin shot his nephew a hard look before answering.

"It is the Arkenstone, the most precious jewel of Erebor" he said behind her, "and it marks me as heir to the throne."

She turned and smiled and then saw the look of jealous anger in his eyes. She immediately grabbed Fili's wrist and reached for Kili's. The three of them closed their eyes while Thorin stood watching in confusion. Fili and Kili's noses wrinkled and their lips curled in dismay as if another potent waft of Bofur's perfume had drifted under their noses. Then they opened their eyes and looked at Grace great respect and slight distaste. They bowed to her and their uncle and bid a quick retreat to the others.

"What was that about?" he asked in bewilderment.

"I saw your anger toward Fili on my account," she said, "so I eliminated any interest on their parts."

Thorin's anger flared anew.

"Do you think I have no judgment in these matters?" he asked hotly. "My nephew wasn't being careful, but I know he meant no harm."

Grace pursed her lips, and twisted a curl of her hair around her finger.

"I meant no disrespect," she said, "but I have a stake here as well, Thorin. Though I am not with my people, I am bound by the laws of my kind wherever I go, and one of them is to strive for peace wherever possible and never to be the cause of discord, especially among family members. I learned that from our encounter with He Who Turned. He broke that law among others."

Thorin exhaled and nodded as his anger cooled. Then he looked at her curiously.

"So what did you tell them?" he asked.

Grace smiled brightly and giggled.

"They are young dwarves and concerned with trivial matters when it comes to women," she said. "It didn't take much to help them see me differently. I just showed them how old I am."

They looked over to see Fili and Kili trying to calculate Grace's age.

"I can't count that high!" Fili said indignantly to Kili as both held out all their fingers.

Thorin took her hand as they laughed.

"Somehow I feel younger," he said smiling.

She squeezed his hand at his teasing and then let go and ran her hands through his damp hair.

"I think I need a comb," she said.

Thorin sighed as Grace sat behind him and combed his hair and replaited his braids, all his anger gone. His face showed only peaceful contentment as her hands gently massaged his head and the strong muscles of his neck and broad shoulders as she combed through the tangles and ran her fingers through his hair that flowed over his shoulders and down his back in a wild, curling mass.

Gloin nudged Balin.

"Have you ever seen _that_ look on his face before?" he asked.

Balin looked over and smiled.

"Never," he said. "Even before Smaug he was always about duty and responsibility, always tasked with something. It's a heavy burden to be a prince and an even greater one to carry it alone as he has for years. I'm happy for him. She's good for all of us."

"I hope the other dwarf lords see it that way," Gloin muttered.

Balin sighed and nodded.

Then Thorin and Grace changed places and he took his time as she did, combing her hair and lightly touching her neck and shoulders. Grace leaned forward, and he stopped.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"If you don't mind…" she asked hesitantly and then she stopped and blushed.

"What is it my heart?" he asked as he gently stroked her hair.

"Will you … would you please hold me?" she replied as she looked up at him.

Immediately, he sat back, pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned against his heavily muscled chest with a sigh. He was delighted with her request and thought it a very good sign.

"Is this what you want?" he asked softly.

She nodded as she leaned her head against him and felt his warm breath on her face. He lightly nuzzled her cheek and neck, reveling that she welcomed his touches and enjoyed his closeness, although he was aware that they could not sit that way for long without a painful strain on his self-control. She giggled softly as his beard and mustache tickled her skin, and then she sighed happily and Thorin's chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

He looked down at her in surprise.

"Can you not tell?" he asked.

She smiled and squeezed his arm.

"I want you to tell me out loud," she said. "I like feeling the rumble of your voice against my back."

He laughed at her frankness and pulled her closer against him.

"I think of the future and that I want to hold you like this forever," he said. Then he looked down at her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"I'm thinking how nice this moment is and how comfortable I am with you," she said.

"I'm glad you enjoy being with me," he said as he grazed her ear with his lips. Curling locks of his hair fell forward and she gently stroked them.

"I do," she said as she then placed her arms over his and hugged them to herself, "very much."

They traveled on and camped without incident and finally approached Esgaroth or Lake-town on Long Lake. The evergreens became smaller and sparser until before them opened a vista of marshes and reeds with the river flowing in between them and widening into a lake that stretched almost like a sea in width and distance. A little after dawn, Grace looked up and saw beyond the end of the lake a single spire of mountain punching a hole through the clouds.

"The Lonely Mountain," she said softly. Thorin covered her hand with his and smiled.

"It will not be easy to reclaim it, Grace," he said silently, "but because you are with me I am more confident than ever that it will be done."

As they came closer to Lake-town, Thorin and the dwarves discussed what to do next.

"We have more than enough supplies to bypass it," Balin said, "and winter in hard upon us. We should push on." The other dwarves agreed.

"But what will be do once we get there?" asked Dori. "We have the map and key that Gandalf gave us at Bilbo's house, but now we have no burglar."

"No," said Balin smiling at Grace, "we have better."

Thorin nodded and then frowned. It was all very well to engage the services of Gandalf's burglar, who it turned out was no burglar at all, but to send in the woman he loved more than his life and kingdom was a another matter entirely. Grace looked at him and at once guessed his thoughts.

"So this Bilbo was supposed to sneak into Erebor," she said thoughtfully, "and somehow the dragon was to be destroyed by the fourteen of you though your own army had no chance against it?"

The dwarves shifted uncomfortably.

"Something like that," Bofur said. "Believe me, my lady, it sounded better before we started off."

Grace laughed. "I am sure that it did," she said with amusement, "but seeing that you all made it here this far, I am certain that the rest will work out as well. Now why did Gandalf want this Bilbo to go and not one of you?"

"Well, because Smaug knows our scent but not that of a Hobbit," Bofur said.

"So he would not know that of a Therian either I'm sure," she said. "Well, that settles the matter."

Thorin looked at her with mounting alarm.

"You are not going in there alone," he said. "There must be another way."

Grace smiled sympathetically but was firm.

"There is no other way, Thorin" she said. "I'm best suited for this, and we all know it."

Thorin shook his head emphatically, but Balin put his hand on his shoulder.

"She's right, laddie," he said quietly, "and you know it too."

Thorin sat there with his hands gripping the reins trying desperately to come up with another plan, but at last he nodded as tears filled his eyes.


	27. Lake-town, Erebor, and Smaug

**Now enter Bard as promised, although my Bard is described as more dashing than the character Luke Evans plays in the movie trailer. He looks a bit too scruffy for me.**

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**Chapter 27: Lake-town, Erebor, and Smaug**

While they were talking they failed to notice boatmen coming down the river to Lake-town. The men looked casually at the company and then looked again hard when they noticed that they were dwarves.

"Alert the Master of Lake-town," one of them said to his companions. "The rumors must be true. Thorin son of Thrain has come to reclaim Erebor."

The dwarves turned and noticed the commotion, and Thorin cursed as he saw them run off.

"At least Grace's back to was to them and they did not notice her," he thought grimly, "for once."

"We must leave now," he said quickly, and they turned as one and galloped past Lake-town.

Grace turned and looked at the unusual city as she galloped past. Tied to piers, it was a series of wooden barges that floated out on the lake. Over time, more and more buildings were built on top of the barges so that it truly did look like a city, although it shifted slightly in strong wind and rocked to the motion of its own tides. Its wealth was built on trade with the elves and men of the south, and it had prospered in the years since Smaug had come.

The men of Lake-town recognized the ever-present danger of an attack by Smaug and so built the city to be easy repaired and near water in case of a fire. Many times they had to rebuild when Smaug was younger and determined to stake his claim, but over the years, they saw less and less of him and so were willing to take the risk of living near a dragon because the rewards of trade were enough recompense and to spare.

The boatmen ran to the office of the Master where he was in conversation with one of the city's leading citizens, Bard the Bowman, the last living descendant of Girion, the King of Dale.

"Are you certain they were dwarves?" asked the Master eagerly as he wiped his dirty fingers on his colorful robes and slicked back his already greasy hair.

The boatmen looked at each other and nodded.

"We are certain," said the designated spokesmen of the group, "all but one for sure, and they were all riding ponies."

The Master turned to Bard.

"Well, well," he said, "the rumors are true after all. I wonder how we may profit from this."

Bard stroked his chin and remained silent. He was a dashing, well-figured man with powerful arms and shoulders as befitting his skill. He was tall and had serious black eyes under thick black brows and long, curly black hair and a trim mustache whose corners reached the beard on his chin. Unlike the Master he was clean and dressed all in black.

"We shall see," he said.

The dwarves pushed on until they reached the road to Dale and at the top Grace saw the dark silhouettes of the ruined city. She turned to Thorin in distress and then dismounted and ran up the hill.

"Grace, wait!" Thorin shouted, but she did not hear him.

She reached the top and saw the burned shells of buildings and homes. In the corners of the market square were skeletons lying on the ground, some with their arms over their faces as if to shield their eyes. One skeleton had its arms around a smaller one, a child. Others were only partly burned, the rest eaten by rodents and other animals over the years. As she wandered through the devastation, her eyes filled with tears as she imagined their terror as they ran with no hope of escape.

Walking to the far edge of the city, she looked over the valley and there loomed before her was the cavernous tomb of Erebor. It was eerily quiet and still. Nothing but scrub grew on the valley floor; the dirt and rocks were gray and covered with ash. A light wind blew mournfully as if crying for the dead, and it brought to her an acrid smell of decay. The massive front gate was blackened and tongues of smoke and ash were burned into the walls. Huge blocks of stone lay scattered along the entrance, and the front portico had collapsed. She could almost hear the horrified screams as the dragon blasted through the gate.

"This was his home," she said as she imagined the dwarves' lives in happy companionship with feasting and song. She thought about what a joyful people they were and how much they valued family and friends.

"I wonder what he was like before Smaug," she thought. "So much has been taken from him, so much unhappiness and shame." Tears pooled in her eyes and she covered her mouth to stifle her sobs.

"Erebor," Thorin said somberly as he quietly came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. He sighed heavily and bowed his head.

She turned to him and put her hand on his face.

"I'm so sorry," she said and she kissed his cheek, "so very sorry." She put her arms around him and kissed him on his lips. He immediately took her face in his hands and deepened the kiss and then pulled back with his chest heaving.

"I love you, Grace, I love you," he said, his deep voice rough as he put his forehead to hers. "I need you like I need to breathe."

She ran her fingers through his hair at his temples and over his mouth. He caught her fingers and kissed them.

"I saw what you felt before, Thorin," she thought to him, "but now I feel what you feel."

"Do you, my heart?" he said both sad and hopeful. "Do you feel _everything_ I feel?"

She looked up into his eyes but then stepped away as Bofur walked over to them.

"A crying shame, that is," he said as he waved his hand at the valley below, "but that's why we're here after all, to make things right."

Grace wrapped her cloak around her as the others arrived.

"Yes," she said as she looked away, "that is why we are here."

As they approached Erebor, Thorin argued with Grace about her plan to confront Smaug.

"No, Thorin," she said firmly, "There is no other way. I am going in through the front gate and deal with Smaug."

Thorin turned to Balin in distress.

"Tell her, Balin," he said angrily, "tell her that is foolhardy."

Balin looked helplessly at them both.

"Thorin," she said patiently, "I'm faster than he is, and his fire most likely will not harm me. We will wait too long if we try to find the secret door on your map and since I am not invisible in any case it will not matter what entrance I go through. He won't expect a direct confrontation, and I believe it will catch him off guard."

The other dwarves shifted uncomfortably, and she finally put her hand on Thorin's arm.

"I know that you're worried about me," she said, "but I'm a warrior like yourself. I have faced worse and survived as you well know."

She tried to catch his eyes as he looked at the ground, and finally she took his chin in her hand.

"'A kiss for luck' I believe is the phrase," she said, and she kissed him on the cheek.

He looked up sadly and then clenched his sword and nodded.

"Be careful, Grace," he said. "Smaug is a source of great evil here, and you know the battle you have to fight in your mind. Remember how much we all care for you and imagine me and all of us in your mind if you need help."

Then he nodded to the others.

"Everyone move away and stay hidden," he ordered. "It will not help her to have Smaug catch our scent."

Quickly Grace loped to the entrance and ran through while Thorin and the others remained downwind behind a jumble of boulders.

Grace wrinkled her nose at the acrid stench and carefully moved forward in the dark until she heard a rhythmic whoosh of breath as if coming from an enormous bellows. Slowly she approached with her glowing swords and looked up and around the see the ruined splendor of Erebor. For a moment she imagined the halls lit and warm with dwarves carrying about their daily business and laughter echoing in the hallways. She smiled as she imagined Thorin as a young dwarf prince standing beside the empty and blackened throne.

"If it costs me my life I will defeat this dragon," she thought fiercely. "He will come not have come all this way for nothing!"

Then she offered up a request to her people should any be listening.

"Please help me do this for him," she pleaded silently. "Please grant me success. I want this not for myself but for him whom I love."

Slowly she crept closer to the sleeping dragon that sank deep on hills and valleys of gold and sized up her opponent. Smaug filled the entire Great Hall with his massive red and brown body. Each of his legs was thicker than the huge pillars that held up the vaulted mountain ceiling, and his scales were as large as shields of armor. Grace fingered one near her feet and realized that they were almost impenetrable. Long bat wings fanned out from his back and curved over him like thick blankets. His claws were like the sharpest curved swords, and she could smell poison at their tips and from his breath as he exhaled.

"I must not breathe in too deeply or let his teeth or claws scratch me," she thought, "otherwise, he is formidable, but not undefeatable. I must not underestimate him, but I hope he underestimates me."

Wearing her elven cloak, she hid behind a thick column and called out calmly.

"O, wondrous Smaug, King of the Dragons," she said, "I have come a long way to meet you and see your magnificence for myself."

Smaug immediately opened one eye and snorted as he roused himself. The dwarves had told her that dragons can speak as they do and that they enjoy flattery and praise. How they lived long enough to know that, she did not know, but since the elves also have had dealings with dragons in distant days, she thought it must be from the same lore as her own people.

"Who dares disturb me after so many years?" he snarled in a low and rumbling voice as he cast his eyes around the cavern dimly lit with the gleam of gold in hopes of catching a quick meal.

"My name is Lady Grace," she replied, "and I come from a long way to meet you."

Smaug sniffed the air and snorted.

"Not from so far," he said slyly, "if that is indeed elf I smell."

Grace took off the cloak and stepped out from behind the pillar. Smaug's eyes opened wide at the sight of the softly glowing golden woman before him and for a moment his surprise left him speechless.

"I wear an elvish cloak as a gift," she said, "but I am what you may know as a Therian."

Smaug looked at her and nodded.

"You do look like what I have heard described," he said interestedly as his thick barbed tail twitched back and forth. "Well, Therian, what do you do here and with me?"

Grace tilted her head and smiled.

"I have come to ask you to leave Erebor for a better life that I can help provide," she said softly.

Smaug ticked his claws on his piles of gold as his tail scattered coins that clinked against the walls.

"Dragons live for nothing else than what I have here," he said with a snarl, "and the occasional meal of men and their pets. No doubt you would want to take my treasure from me when I leave, is that it?"

Grace smiled and shook her head.

"As you may have heard, my people care nothing for gold or treasure," she said. "Our 'treasure' is in living things and in friends, something I see that you do not have."

Smaug growled in his throat.

"And something I do not need, Therian!" he said angrily as he suddenly swiped at her with a claw sending gold plates and cups clattering against the walls.

Grace quickly jumped aside and kept talking.

"Are you certain, Smaug?" she asked. "Tell me, does your gold keep you warm in the winter or keep you company while you are alone? Does it tell you jokes to make you laugh or show concern when you are sad? Does it care about you at all? "

Smaug sneered.

"What are those things to me now, my lady," he asked, "when I've never had them?"

Grace carefully approached him.

"But would you like them?" she asked. "You can have them if you want."

Smaug rumbled in his chest as he considered her words.

"Approach, Therian, and demonstrate your intent," he said slyly. "I swear I will not harm you."

Grace held out her arms and slowly walked toward Smaug.

"I want to touch you behind the ear," she said. "I will not hurt you if you keep your word."

Outside Thorin strained to hear what was happening within, but all he could hear was rumbling and the clink of gold as Smaug heaved his enormous bulk from side to side.

Smaug nodded but kept his claws curved toward her. Slowly she reached up and started scratching and stroking him behind the ear. Smaug's eyes opened wide before his lids drooped and his tail thumped.

"That is indeed pleasant, Therian," he said with surprise. "What else do you have for me?"

Grace smiled, and Smaug felt warmth spread through his body as love and joy flowed through him. At first, he stretched and luxuriated in her friendship and compassion, but as his nature was fixed and immovable by choice, his goodwill toward her quickly returned to greed.

"You offer much, my lady," Smaug said impressed but now scheming with his own plan. "I am indeed lonely, but leaving my gold is not in my nature, so I have decided to have you both."

With surprising speed Smaug leapt forward to trap Grace in his claws, but she was aware of his plan and rolled behind a pillar. He roared and flung up a pile of gold at the pillar and tried to catch her as she leapt away behind a tall mound of gemstones.

"I have not come here to be your enemy," she said firmly from her position, "and I do not want to hurt you if there is another way."

Smaug roared, and outside the front gate Thorin closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he tensed with his sword ready to help her should she call for him.

"Please call me, Grace," he thought as he readied to spring. "Waiting while you are in there is worse than dying by your side." Grace looked around and assessed her vantage points when she spied a glittering gem half-buried at the base of the mound. It was the size of her palm and flashed with inner fire.

"The Arkenstone!" she thought excitedly, and she slipped it into a hidden pocket in her armor. Then she readied herself for what was to come.

"So why are you here, Therian?" Smaug roared. "You did not come for me, but to restore Erebor to the dwarves, I expect, leaving me precious little in the bargain."

"I will not harm creatures of any kind if there is another way," she said, "but, yes, I have come here to help Thorin grandson of Thror reclaim his throne. He is willing to let you have as much treasure as you want in return, but if you chose to fight you will lose!"

Smaug thrashed and screamed with anger, and taking a deep breath he spat flames that she countered with her own as she stepped out to face him. The raging fires crashed together and shot like geysers at the high ceiling where they split across and flowed back down the walls.

"You will not win here Smaug!" she cried. "You do not have to make an enemy!"

Smaug spat at her contemptuously and whipped his tail to throw her off-balance.

"Weakness is what you offer, Therian," he snarled, "weakness and defeat!" Smaug spread his wings wide and filled the cavernous Great Hall with his might.

"I am Smaug the Powerful and no one's fool," he raged loudly as the mountain shook. "Thorin may have been forced to send you in here, but for one so beautiful I am sure that he is close by. There is no need to relieve me of my treasure or of Erebor if there is no Thorin to claim them!

Then he roared his challenge, stood and started moving toward the front gate while Grace raced beside him out of sight up a pile of gold. The dwarves heard his approach and ran out of view, but Thorin crouched by the door. As Smaug's head began to emerge from the front gate of Erebor, Grace leapt off of the gold and pushed against a wall to land on his neck. Smaug roared and shook his head and tried to crush Grace against the top of the gate opening, but Thorin leapt out from behind a statue and slashed at Smaug's front legs and then rolled out of the way when Smaug seared the rocks where he was hiding with fire. The dragon roared in pain and reared up on his hind legs to shake Grace off, but Thorin slashed his back legs giving her time to finally nestle herself between two ridges on his shoulders, and then he ran quickly behind Smaug so he would not be seen.

Thorin almost cried out as he saw Grace struggle to hold on, but he bit his lip hard as he held his fist to his mouth. The other dwarves braced themselves as Smaug turned and poured flames over the side the mountain in a rage, but although he knew that the dwarves were there, he could not see them.

"They will be dead soon, Therian," Smaug snarled, "for once I take flight I will find them and turn them to cinders as I did their kin! I will burn Lake-town first and spread its ashes on the water and then I will blast Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, to dust!" He spread his wings and great gusts of air buffeted the mountain as he took to the skies.

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**I suppose it's a terrible pun to say that things are heating up for everyone-but they are! Please comment faithful readers. Your reviews are much appreciated, and I don't mind constructive criticism!**


	28. The End and the Beginning

**Chapter 28: The End and the Beginning**

Boatmen on the outskirts of Lake-town were the first to hear and see the dragon emerge from Erebor, and they quickly sounded the alarm. Bard stood tall and grim on the pier with his bow and looked out as he saw the dragon approach. Then he spied a small boat tied up at the quay.

"If I kill him before he reaches Lake-town," he thought quickly, "we will survive this day." He hurriedly untied the boat and rowed far out onto Long Lake. "I will only have one shot," he said to himself as he smoothed the feathers of the black arrow that had been in his family for generations. "Do not fail me now," he said as he clenched it tight and prepared to fit it into his bow.

Smaug looked behind him as he flew and finally spied Thorin and the others behind the rocks.

"Look, my lady," he smirked. "Look on your 'friends' for the last time." Grace looked back at Thorin and then down at the water and readied herself as Smaug flew out high over the lake. He spread his great wings and was about to bank to return when Grace drew her swords and prepared to jump.

"For Thorin and for Erebor!" she cried as she drove them deep into his neck in between his scales. Smaug screamed and slowed as his wings flapped erratically and his claws scratched the air. Bard loosed his arrow at the same moment, and it struck home in Smaug's left breast. Grace took a deep breath and leapt off to the water far below. Both Bard and Thorin saw a flash of gold fall from the sky, and Balin stifled a sob as the dwarves raced to their ponies. Smaug spiraled toward the ground, gaining speed, until he crashed dead against the shore with Grace's swords buried to their hilts in his neck.

Bard saw something splash in the waves, and he dove in and sped to the turbulence. He swam down many feet before he grabbed ahold of Grace and raced back up to lift her head above the water. Relieved to see that she was still alive, he carefully swam with her under one arm to the boat. He lifted her up into the boat and climbed in behind her, wondering at her bravery and beauty. Then he quickly tapped her cheeks and listened for breathing.

"Come on," he said urgently, "come _on_. Breathe!" Finally, he tipped up her chin and breathed into her mouth and instantly fell against the side of the boat as a shock of unfamiliar emotion surged through him. He looked up to see her breathing but wincing in pain. Then he saw blood running down her neck from a long gash on her temple and more blood pooling from a deep wound on her shoulder, and he pulled the oars strongly to get her back to Lake-town.

Townspeople crowded around him as he lifted her out of the boat and brought her quickly up the pier.

"Was she riding the dragon?" asked a boatman in awe. Bard nodded shortly and walked with her to face the Master.

"Who is that?" he asked as he clutched his hands together nervously, "and was she riding _Smaug_?"

"_She_ needs _help_ and now," Bard said shortly as he looked at her dimly familiar face. He pushed his way through the crowd and quickly walked with her to the healing room. Grace woke briefly and looked up at Bard with clouded eyes.

"Put me in a fire," she whispered weakly as he looked at her incredulously, "else I will die," and then she went limp in his arms. Bard looked at the large fireplace at the end of the room and hesitated. He looked again at her face and felt her turning cold, and he took a deep breath.

"Forgive me, most beautiful one," he whispered, and he hastened to the fireplace and against the cries and shrieks of the women in the room he leaned down with Grace and put her head into the fire.

Instantly it blazed, and Grace gasped and coughed. Bard gently turned her over and thumped her on the back. After she coughed up the water, he helped her to her feet, but she staggered and fell against him, and he quickly lifted her in his arms and placed her on one of the beds and as he did so he noticed the braids and beads in her hair. He took a deep breath, knowing then that one of the dwarves had claimed her. Attendants rushed around her and tried to stop the bleeding but in vain.

"What must be done for her?" Bard asked as his dark eyes lingered on her pale face, almost whiter than the sheets she lay upon. The women looked up frightened.

"We don't know if we can do anything for her," one said as they pressed clean cloths against her wounds.

Bard walked outside the healing room to find the Master pacing the hallway.

"She is certainly the savior of this town," he said unctuously, "along with yourself, of course. What a fine thing it would be for her to stay as a beacon of hope for our thriving community. I'm sure you wouldn't mind that she stayed, eh, Bard, from the look on your face."

Bard drew himself up to his full height and looked down at the Master with disgust.

"I am the descendant of Girion and heir to the throne of Dale," he said proudly, "not this city." Then he thought to himself, "But no, I wouldn't mind that at all."

He walked outside, looked over the railing at the lake, and replayed what had happened. As he remembered placing his lips on hers, a tingle of feeling raced through him, and he ran his hand over his mouth.

"Whoever he is," Bard thought grimly, "I will challenge him for her. I will regain my throne and be worthy of her." His usually serious face softened with a secret smile.

Thorin and the dwarves galloped to Lake-town with all the speed their mounts could give them, and dismounting before his pony had stopped he ran up the wooden bridge to the city.

"Where is she?" he asked as he looked around wildly at the crowd. "Did you find her? Do you have her?"

The Master walked calmly to the front of the crowd as Bard followed some distance behind.

"And you would be?" the Master prompted. The dwarves ran up behind Thorin, desperate to hear news of Grace.

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, and rightful king of Erebor," he said forcefully. "Smaug is dead, one of my people is missing, and I am responsible for her safety."

The Master looked briefly at Bard before answering.

"I saw no such person," he said, "and certainly no woman." The crowd murmured in surprise, and Thorin looked at Bard and saw that his hair and clothes were wet. Not wasting a moment, he stormed up to him and stared him down.

"You went in after her," he said urgently. "Did she swallow any water? Did you touch her with fire?"

As the crowd gasped in surprise, Bard looked at Thorin and their eyes locked. Slowly, Bard nodded, and Thorin exhaled in relief.

"You will take me to her now," he commanded imperiously. Bard regarded him coolly, but the Master stepped forward and puffed out his chest.

"We welcome you back, Thorin son of Thrain," he said smoothly, "but Lake-town is not your kingdom, and you are not in command here. The girl is clearly not a dwarf, and she belongs with her own kind."

The crowd murmured as the dwarves started arguing their right to see Grace, and Thorin reached for his sword.

"You will fall before you unsheathe your sword," Bard said loudly as he reached for his bow.

Another voice broke in.

"And you will fall before you fit your arrow," Legolas said as he strode up the bridge with his bow pulled tight. Behind him were 10 elves with their bows at the ready.

The Master dabbed his damp forehead with his sleeve and turned to meet the elf prince.

"Prince Legolas," he said simpering, "so rarely do you come to visit our humble city. It is an honor."

Legolas ignored him and kept his eyes and bow trained on Bard.

"Take Thorin to see her now," he ordered.

Bard quickly assessed his position and nodded slowly and gestured for them to follow him. As he put his hand on the latch, the door opened.

"I am sorry, Bard," said a man looking worriedly over at the bed where Grace lay, "we can't do any more for her. She has lost too much blood. The dragon must have raked her with its claws or teeth, and the poison is preventing the bleeding from stopping, but when she was still conscious she was calling for someone named Thorin."

Inhaling sharply, Thorin quickly pushed his way into the room and hastened to her side. He took her limp hand in his and put it on his face.

"I am here, my heart," he said softly, "come back to me, please come back to me."

Bard appraised who he now knew would be his opponent while Thorin smoothed her hair and found the wounds, which were deep and seeping blood. Her face was white, and she lay as still as death. He tried to remember how he had healed her before and took a deep breath as he prepared himself.

"We have won, my heart," he said as his voice caught, "but it will mean nothing if you are not with me. Please, my love, come back to me."

Then he placed his hands near her wounds and closed his eyes. He opened his heart and poured all his love, hopes, wishes, and dreams into her body as a single tear trickled down his cheek.

"Please," he begged silently, "if any of you, her people, are watching, please honor my poor offering and let her come back to me."

Bard and Legolas stood silently as they watched, while the Master wrung his hands and left to plan his next move. Then slowly Grace's forehead jewel began to grow brighter and her skin began to glow. Bard and Legolas looked on in amazement as the glow gathered force. Suddenly, the jewel flashed and beams of light filled the room and streamed through the windows like beacons as her wounds began to close. Bard and Legolas shielded their faces, and Thorin finally lifted his head to see her eyes slowly open.

"Thorin, my dearest one," she said weakly, "do not weep. Your love will always bring me back to you."

With a cry he gathered her to him, held her tight, and kissed her face. Legolas smiled, but Bard looked somber.

"There is no doubt now of where she belongs," he said to himself in defeat as he looked at Thorin's joyful face, "and with whom."

Grace sat up slowly and pushed back the covers, but Thorin shook his head.

"No, my heart," he said firmly, "you need to rest for a while longer." "I insist on it," he added with a look as she pouted her displeasure, but then she nodded and reached into her armor.

"For you, Thorin," she said as she pulled out the Arkenstone. His eyes widened as he took the jewel, but then he quickly put it in his coat and took her hand.

"I am more grateful than I can say, my love, but you are worth more to me than any cold stone," he said, and he helped her lay back against the cushions. Soon she closed her eyes and fell asleep. After making sure that she was resting comfortably, Thorin walked over to Bard and held out his hand.

"I am forever indebted to you for saving her life," he said seriously. Bard shook his hand and looked back at Grace.

"Who is she?" he asked as he gazed upon her. Thorin caught his look of ardent admiration and grimaced. Then he looked at Legolas who nodded his understanding.

"I don't want this generally known for her safety," Thorin said, "but she is a Therian."

Bard's head whipped back to Thorin in disbelief as the pictures of a book that he had read as a young boy appeared before his eyes.

"Ah!" he said. Grace stirred in her sleep, and Bard lowered his voice.

"I remember now why she seemed vaguely familiar to me," he said as he turned to stare at her. "I thought that they were only a myth."

Thorin shrugged.

"My people know nothing about them," he said. "I learned from the elves at Rivendell who she and her people are."

"No wonder I felt what I did when I kissed her," Bard said in awe.

Thorin's eyes flashed, but he tamped his anger down to a scowl.

"What do you mean you kissed her?" he asked as calmly as he could manage.

Bard rubbed his forehead as he recalled what had happened.

"She wasn't breathing when I pulled her out of the water," he said, "and I remembered what I saw some fishermen do when a young boy fell into the water and they pulled him out. I breathed into her mouth, and then she started breathing on her own."

Thorin exhaled hard, realizing that Bard's "kiss" had saved her life.

"I understand," he said.

"Thorin," Bard said still looking at Grace, "I am an honorable man, and I will say nothing, but the Master is plotting to use her to further himself, and if he finds out who she is there will be trouble. The townspeople here are good people but easily swayed, so we must be careful while she recovers."

Then he hesitated.

"I must be frank with you," he said turning to Thorin and looking him square in the eye, "If I had not seen what I had, nothing would have prevented me from challenging you for her."

Thorin nodded and his lip quirked.

"I thank you for your honesty," he said, "and I understand completely."

He faced Legolas.

"And thank you for your assistance, Legolas," he said sincerely. "I know you feel the same." The elf prince inclined his head graciously.

Then all three princes turned to look at Grace sleeping peacefully and smiled.

* * *

**So you think all danger and trouble have passed, do you? On the contrary! Stay tuned...**


	29. Trouble with Grace

**Chapter 29: Trouble with Grace**

Later in the day, while Grace was still resting, Bard, Legolas, and Thorin met in a private room to discuss the day's events. The Master was not invited to join them.

"So you are the Girion's descendant and heir to Dale," Thorin said seriously. "What are your thoughts now that Smaug is gone?"

Bard sat back and regarded Thorin without expression before he replied.

"My plans are the same as yours, Thorin," he said carefully, "but before we speak of anything else we must speak of the treasure at Erebor. Smaug stole my people's wealth as well as yours, and I ask that it be returned to us."

Thorin looked at him angrily and his breathing grew loud, but then he clasped his hands together tightly and calmed himself.

"I have thought of nothing all these years but my own people's sufferings and the loss of our home," he said, "but your people have suffered as greatly as ours, and I acknowledge the justice of your claim. I will give you all that is yours and more besides to rebuild Dale as it was or as you and your people would wish it to be."

They all sat silently for a moment, and then Legolas leaned forward.

"And what service may the elves render?" he asked. "There is much to do at Dale and Erebor and without your people it would take years to rebuild."

"That is so," Thorin nodded and he stroked his beard as he thought on what to do.

"I will offer to pay all the residents of Lake-town and the woodland realm handsomely for their help in restoring Dale and Erebor," Thorin said finally. "Now that it is getting cold, there may be little we can do, but let us start nonetheless. I believe that we have waited long enough."

Thorin and Balin stayed with Grace at night to make sure that her enemy did not return in her weakened state, but the next morning the Master had decided that he had waited long enough and paid Grace a visit after Thorin and Balin left. She was weary, but she graciously agreed to meet with him at his request. The Master entered with a flourish and dismissed her attendants with an impatient wave of his hand. One discerning grandmother, however, decided to listen at the door after she saw a suspicious gleam in his eyes as he approached Grace.

"My lady, my lady," he said cheerfully, "words cannot express my gratitude at how you have helped rid our land of the scourge of Smaug and in such a heroic way! It has been much talked of in Lake-town and soon will be talked of throughout all Middle-earth!"

Grace looked up at the Master and tried to smile.

"I thank you," she said, "but I do not wish any news to spread of my involvement in this. The only important news is that Smaug is dead and that the people he terrorized can return to their homelands."

The Master nodded in agreement

"Of course, of course," he said ingratiatingly, "and how noble of you to offer your assistance to the dwarves, although it is unfortunate that you were not acquainted with the true state of affairs when you promised your help to Prince Thorin."

Grace stared at him as she tried to focus.

"What state of affairs?" she asked as she dropped her head on her pillow, too tired to sit up.

"Oh, only that the dwarves are really more than capable to reclaim their homeland without your help," he said. "It is our people and the people of Dale who have truly suffered and have no one such as yourself to help them."

Then the Master told Grace that Thorin had resettled his people so admirably in the fertile Blue Mountains that they were actually quite prosperous and lacked nothing of importance.

"They tell stories of Erebor to be sure," he said with an oily smirk, "but I would be surprised if any would want to leave the comfort of their homes now to come back to an old ruin. However, the people of Dale and Lake-town have suffered cruelly since Smaug and have never prospered in body or spirit."

Grace knitted her brows in confusion.

"But your people seem happy and contented," she said as her head began to spin.

The Master shook his head sadly.

"They are now because of your presence, my lady," he said with a bow, "but they will all soon return to despair when you leave to help the dwarves, and our children will suffer the most knowing that their savior is going to help the rich dwarves instead of their poor selves.

Grace turned her head to the wall as tears gathered in her eyes.

"I am very tired now and need to rest," she said.

The Master smiled with satisfaction.

"I bid you good day now, my lady," he said with a hint of malice and walked confidently out the door. He noticed the old woman cleaning up in the hallway, and he marched up to her and clutched her arm.

"Agathil, one word, just one word, and you and your family will be banished from Lake-town," he threatened, "and I will see to it personally that you all starve!" Then he walked away with a spring in his step.

Thorin and his company, along with Grace, stayed at Lake-town for several days so that Grace could get well, but her recovery was slow and she frequently said that she was tired and returned to her room. Thorin often took her hand and grew increasingly worried when he saw her thoughts clouding and fragmenting. The townspeople had gone out to inspect Smaug's carcass, and they scavenged souvenirs and brought back Grace's swords. Thorin and the dwarves also went out to see the remains of the dragon that had plagued them for so long. Meanwhile, Bard talked to Grace as they looked over the railing at the lake beyond. She wore a high-necked purple velvet dress and black furred cloak, gifts given by the grateful women of the town.

"Do you intend to stay with the dwarves, my lady?" Bard asked while watching her closely. "I did not think that living inside cold stone would suit you."

Grace shrugged her shoulders.

"I promised Thorin that I would help his people return home," she said listlessly. "The future after that is not decided."

Bard caught his breath and turned toward her intently, his black eyes gleaming.

"I am the heir to throne of Dale," he said, "and now I have the means to rebuild it even greater than it was. If you would rather live out in the sun and among the flowers and the trees you are welcome to stay with my people, and then you could visit the dwarves as often as you like."

Grace looked out over the water and sighed tiredly.

"I thank you for your gracious offer, Bard," she said. "You are very generous, but I believe that Thorin would object to that arrangement."

Bard drew a deep breath and took his chance.

"Staying with Thorin is your choice, my lady," he said carefully, "but you are free to make other choices once you have kept your promise."

Grace looked up at him, now understanding his meaning. The darkly handsome man stood before her both nervous and eager, and she felt sympathy and friendly affection for him.

"I have never seen such courage and daring as you demonstrated," he said softly as he presented her cleaned swords to her. "I've never seen a woman warrior before, and a most beautiful one at that."

He looked into her eyes with adoration, and Grace recognized his tender regard for her. She gently put her hand on his arm.

"There are many worthy women who fight in their own way for what is right and for whom they love," she said kindly. "I did what I did because I love Thorin and his people, Bard, but I will always be grateful for what you did for me and value your friendship."

Bard nodded and smiled sadly as Thorin approached them. He glanced at Bard and Grace together and quashed his jealousy before it reached his eyes. Then Grace excused herself to rest.

"Is she well?" Thorin asked.

"Yes," Bard said shortly, "but she still tires too easily." Then he faced Thorin.

"I know I have no right to ask," he said grimly, "but I want to know what your intentions are toward her and that they are honorable. At least then I can rest easier knowing that she will be well taken care of. I love her, Thorin, and if I cannot win her hand, then at least I can make certain that you do right by her."

Thorin appraised him coolly.

"Did you approach her?" he asked dangerously as his face darkened and his mouth tightened. "Did you touch her by chance?" He clenched his fists as he waited for the answer.

Bard exhaled angrily.

"I know what Dwarven courting braids mean," he said impatiently, "and as I said before I am an honorable man. I simply asked her what her plans were and offered other choices," and he faced Thorin squarely.

Thorin took a step closer.

"Other choices?" he growled between his teeth as his hand moved to the pommel of his sword. "What other choices _exactly_?"

Flashing gray eyes clashed with black.

"I merely offered her the hospitality of my city once it is rebuilt and she has kept her promise," Bard said with forced calm.

Thorin roared and unsheathed his sword, but Bard quickly grabbed his arm.

"Do not push this beyond what it is," Bard said seriously. "I did nothing to cause you to claim your rights." He sighed and put up his hands in surrender. "You understand, you must understand, that I cannot help loving her, just as surely as you cannot help loving her. No honorable man can stand before her and keep his heart to himself."

Thorin sheathed his sword angrily and grabbed the railing as his chest heaved. It would not do to make a mortal enemy out of one's nearest neighbor and former ally, and he grudgingly admitted the truth of Bard's words.

"Humph," Thorin snorted in frustration, "you're in good company."

"Oh?" Bard asked with interest as he leaned against the railing. "Who else is in this exclusive club?"

Thorin looked up with chagrin. "Legolas and Prince Larin of Gondor," he muttered.

Bard's eyes widened.

"You would have a true rival in Legolas if he were a whit less honorable," Bard said consideringly, "but Prince Larin, that lack-beard?"

Bard worked himself into jealous froth that greatly surprised and amused Thorin who certainly agreed with his assessment. He watched with a smirk as Bard's jaw clenched and his eyes sparked with anger, and he realized then that though he may win Grace's heart and hand, in some ways Grace would be theirs, that the men who loved her would all work together somehow to protect her and keep her safe.

"He gave her the queen's ring without even telling her its significance," Thorin added slyly, baiting Bard further for his own entertainment.

"He what?" Bard shouted. "That …! That …!" he spluttered. Thorin grinned and then put up his hands, taking the unlikely position of calming Bard down.

"To be fair," Thorin said as he rolled his eyes, "he is a man now, a _very young_ man, and he was overcome by her just as surely as we were. To be honest, I don't think I acted any better the first night I spent with her."

Bard's eyebrows raised and Thorin cleared his throat.

"When she was seriously injured and I kept watch over her," Thorin amended.

Bard did not move.

"The night attendants from Lord Elrond also kept vigil," Thorin added hastily.

Bard nodded, finally satisfied.

Thorin sourly noted the sudden and most unwelcome reversal of positions.

"Now, if I recall, Thorin," Bard said, "you never answered my question." He folded his arms and lifted one brow as he waited.

"You were correct, you have no the right to ask," Thorin said finally, "but nevertheless I assure you that my intentions are honorable."

The two men faced each other, and as Thorin turned to him Bard saw not a competitor but the powerful king of Erebor.

"I want to make her my wife as soon as she will allow me," he said with fierce determination. "I want nothing less than for her to be my queen."

"And what does she want?" Bard asked matching Thorin's demeanor.

Thorin lifted his chin proudly.

"As you see, she wears my braids and is allowing me to court her," he said with a triumphant edge to his voice, "me and _no one_ else." Then his shoulders dropped. "But it still seems like an eternity," he said grudgingly, "and I wonder sometimes if I will ever be able to win her hand."

Bard nodded in understanding and hung his head.

"She said that she will always value my friendship," he said dully.

The two men regarded each other silently, suddenly feeling a surprising kinship over the frustrations of loving Grace. Thorin clapped him on the back as they looked out over the lake as the setting sun turned the water to sheets of gold and copper.

"Friendship," Bard repeated with resignation and a sigh.

Thorin mumbled something in sympathy and then looked down and smiled to himself.

Now that Smaug was gone, the dwarves could return home, and the next morning Thorin asked Balin, Gloin, and Oin to go to the Blue Mountains west of the Shire and prepare their people.

"Be sure to give our regards to Bilbo on the way," Thorin said genially. "I will stay here and oversee the repairs. We have much work ahead to be ready for our people to arrive in the spring."

Balin frowned.

"Of course I will go if you wish it, but I don't feel easy leaving while Gracie is still unwell," Balin said as he scratched his temple. "She isn't herself, and she isn't recovering as fast as I thought she would."

Thorin agreed and looked over at Grace with concern. She was talking with some of the women of the town and meeting their children who clearly adored her. She was gracious and very kind and loving to the children, but she also seemed sad and was paler than usual.

"I know," he said while stroking his beard. "Of course, she lost much blood and since Smaug's poison has killed many outright, perhaps we are expecting too much, but all the same I feel uneasy myself, but she assures me that the enemy hasn't returned."

Balin looked at Thorin discerningly.

"I also have a charge from Lord Elrond that I cannot honor if I am not here," he said archly. "Someone has to keep an eye on you."

Thorin scowled.

"I am not a stripling that I need watching," he said hotly. "I am my own man, and I can control myself."

"Aye, Thorin, you're a man all right," Balin said slyly, "and that is exactly why you need watching with my Gracie."

"Do you think me without honor?" Thorin growled.

Balin smiled fondly and patted his arm.

"No laddie, but honor can forget to be on its guard at home," he said. "You are master here, and it will be easier to forget that Gracie is not yours when you both are living at Erebor."

Thorin sighed.

"I will send Dori in your stead but only because you are concerned for her health," he said dryly.

Grace rubbed her head and walked over the bridge to walk along the shore. She felt listless and tired and very confused by what the Master had said. She knew that she was bound by her promise, but she felt wretched that there were others who had perhaps a greater need that she could not help.

"Am I harming some by helping others?" she asked herself in despair. "What do I do? I don't know what to do."

Thorin left Balin to stretch his legs and saw her walking along the shore. He smiled warmly as he watched her, but he soon grew concerned as he saw her pacing and wringing her hands.

"Grace!" he called out, but she did not hear him. Then she stopped and put her hands over her face.

"Grace!" he cried as she dropped to the ground.

Thorin hastened to her, picked her up in his arms, and walked quickly with her back to her room. Agathil watched secretly as Thorin carefully laid her on her bed unconscious. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her holding her hand.

"Why are you not recovering?" he asked aloud in frustration. "What am I missing? Speak to me, Grace, what am I missing?"

Suddenly, enormous despair washed over him and terrible guilt as he felt her failure to serve life like a pool of poison drowning her. He remembered that Galadriel said that her sustenance was in service, but how could she be weaker after defeating Smaug and serving so many? Her felt her pain as almost a physical blow and discerned that it was especially sharp concerning the children here.

"Why is your concern for the people here making you ill?" Thorin asked aloud as sweat broke out on his forehead from the emotional weight she bore. "Why should you feel anything but joy for all you have done?"

Agathil listened and slowly moved closer to him. She peered at his face as he stared fixedly at Grace and closed her eyes tightly. Then she took a deep breath and addressed him.

"My lord," she said, "I know why your lovely young lady is not getting better."

Thorin stormed into the Master's office without introduction, his face as dark as thunder clouds and his mouth twisted in barely controlled rage. He jabbed the point of his sword underneath the Master's chin and used it to lift him to his feet.

"The only reason, the _only_ reason I do not run you through," he seethed, "is because you need to undo what you have done."

Just then Bard strode through the door with his hands balled into fists and his face contorted with anger.

"I see that Agathil told you as well," he said. Thorin nodded quickly, and they each grabbed the Master by a shoulder and marched him to Grace's room.

After he left, Grace sobbed on Thorin's shoulder and held her hand out to Bard, who took it quickly and held it gently between his own as he kneeled before her.

"Thank you both," she said gratefully. "I felt so terribly guilty, and I did not know what to do."

"Shhh, Grace," Thorin said as he held her gently. "It's over, and now you can get well."

Both men stood so she could finally get some rest, but Grace took Thorin's hand.

"I want to leave as soon as I can, Thorin," she said. "Take me to Erebor."

* * *

**What do you think of Bard? I figured that it would be fun if Thorin not only had yet another suitor to contend with, but also one who would stand up to him for Grace's sake. **


	30. The Sensitivity of Men

**I couldn't resist having a little fun with everyone amidst all the hard work. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 30: The Sensitivity of Men**

Thorin asked Dori to go with Gloin, and Oin to the Blue Mountains to get his people ready to come home, and they left with an escort of the elves to see them safely through Mirkwood. Townspeople all brought their boats, wheel barrows, and buckets to Erebor. At Thorin's order, Balin allowed them to fill them all with whatever they desired that did not belong in the royal treasury in exchange for work in restoring both kingdoms, and Thorin sent a string of ponies laden with diamonds and gold with Legolas in exchange for the elves' help. Though winter was hard upon them, it had not yet snowed and so the men and elves were able to begin to tear down the burned remains of Dale as well as lift and pull away the ruined stone portico and front gate of Erebor. Bard strode through the streets of Dale and began to imagine the rise of his city.

"All we will be able to do before the weather turns bitter is to repair the front gate entrance and portico," Thorin said to Balin with a frown, "but Erebor will still be defenseless without its doors and bars."

Grace watched over the next several weeks as men and elves constantly surrounded around Thorin looking for his directions and decisions, and despite her understanding of his need to take care of his kingdom, she felt lonely without him. Many times she wanted to talk to him, to try and recapture the closeness she felt toward him while they were on the quest, but she did not dare interrupt what were all important discussions. Thorin worked so hard that he only ate during meetings, and he often worked throughout the night. Since their return, she was given her own set of chambers with Agathil as her personal maid because as Thorin sent Balin to explain, it would not be seemly for them to be sleeping together alone in her room.

"Will it always be like this, Balin?" she asked with some sadness. "I hardly see him anymore."

Balin smiled and patted her hand. "Be patient, Gracie," he said. "You can see how much needs to be done. Why don't you find yourself something to keep busy?"

Some weeks later, Legolas arrived, leading sleds hauling enormous carved wooden doors reinforced with steel to replace those that Smaug had destroyed.

"A gift from my father," he said smiling.

They all worked together to fit the doors and hang the counterweights. The dwarves wondered at the marvel of engineering that made the heavy doors able to be opened with a finger. Thorin nodded with satisfaction and relief. Though their defenses were far from repaired, the dwarves at least now could stay at Erebor in relative safety.

Meanwhile, Grace took Balin's advice and went out into the hills and fields surrounding Erebor in her traveling clothes and took stock of the devastation of the countryside. She fingered the gray dirt and smelled the scent of poison in the earth.

"Nothing will grow here," she said to herself. "They will have come for nothing if they cannot survive here." She let the dust drift through her fingers and then turned and saw Bofur wandering the fields, doing the same and shaking his head. He walked over at her and frowned. Ori stood further away drawing in his sketchbook.

"Aye," he said, "I see that you are seeing and thinking the same as me. What a shame to come all this way if we are not able to stay, and we will not be able to stay if we all cannot grow enough food for everyone."

Grace pressed her lips together.

"What do we need, Bofur?" she asked. "If the elves can help us until a harvest, what seed would we need to plant this spring?"

"But, my lady," he said. "That would do no good if the ground is poisoned. The dwarves here relied on farmers from Dale for food, but the fields around the city are poisoned as well."

Grace shook her head in frustration.

"We will not fail now," she declared. Suddenly another melody began to sound in her mind. She only remembered snatches, but as she looked up at the sun it began to weave itself together.

"What is this that I am remembering?" she thought, and she started to hum.

"That's right pretty," he said, and he started to dance a jig. She laughed as she realized that she had her answer.

As she laughed, three men appeared at the edge of the woods.

"There's only one with her now," said a big man named Limron who came to profit from Thorin's generosity. He and the other two men worked to rebuild Dale but without any care for the city or the people who would live there. They wanted gold and worked hard for it, but then the men saw Grace and their goal changed. They had already been paid handsomely but it was not enough.

"No, there's another dwarf," said the second man nodding at Ori further away.

Limron scoffed, "He's too far away, and now's our chance."

"But who will get her?" the third man asked.

Limron leered and licked his lips.

"We all will," he said.

As soon as the men stepped out of the woods, Grace whirled around and saw their intent as Limron made an umistakably lewd gesture at her.

"Bofur!" she cried. "Get Ori and run to Erebor."

Bofur turned toward her and his eyes widened.

"But what about you, my lady?" he asked.

"I will deal with this myself," she said, and then she grabbed his arm. "Don't tell Thorin."

Bofur's eyebrows drew together and he shook his head. "I will not lie, my lady," he said, "but if there is a way around telling him I will find it."

The men looked surprised but pleased when they saw Bofur run away and grab Ori, but they were taken aback when they saw Grace stand and call out to them.

"I am wearing the braids of Thorin, king of Erebor," she said loudly. "Do you understand what that means?"

The men exchanged glances and Limron answered Grace.

"We do, my girl," he said, "but we do not answer to him."

Grace sighed and figured that she had better end this quickly before Bofur returned to Erebor without her.

"Very well," she said, "you will answer to me."

As they approached, she quickly rolled up her sleeves and started the flames in her hands. The men stopped, clearly caught off-guard, but before they could say anything or run she burned off their clothes in an instant. Shocked and quickly realizing that she was much more than she appeared, they turned to flee, but she streamed fire behind them as well, so that they were trapped.

"Well, men," she said harshly, "here is your opportunity to see women differently. We are not here for your amusement and should any of you ever hurt a woman, you may find yourselves quite vulnerable to the edge of a knife while you sleep."

What she did not notice was Bofur and Ori watching from a hidden spot some distance away.

"Shouldn't we be helping?" Ori asked worriedly.

Bofur scoffed, "Does she look like she needs our help?"

They watched in amazement as she burned the men's clothes off.

"She really does put on a good show," Bofur said.

Then Grace concentrated with her eyes closed and a flock of birds appeared at the edge of the woods. She let the flames die behind the men, but then the birds descended to peck away at sensitive areas while they danced and yelped, and before they could get away completely she sent a final flash of fire to their backsides that would keep them standing for the next several weeks. As the flames streamed across the field to reach the men, hot wind blew Bofur and Ori's hair back and knocked them to the ground, and they looked up just in time to see the men yelp and shout as the birds chased them into the forest. Stunned at first, they burst into peals of laughter. Grace listened to the sounds in the woods for a moment and then nodded her head in satisfaction, rolled down her sleeves, and ran to catch up to Bofur.

As she ran toward the gate of Erebor, she saw in the distance to her dismay Bofur and Ori laughing so hard that they could not speak, and she knew that they had seen what happened.

"I suppose I can't fault them for wanting to keep an eye on me," she thought grumpily.

A crowd of workers gathered around Bofur and Ori as they both fell both to the ground laughing themselves breathless, and as Grace walked up, Bofur wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "My lady, I'm so sorry, but there is no ever-loving way that either of us will be able to keep this to ourselves."

Grace looked up and sucked in her breath.

"Well, you're going to have to because here comes Thorin," she said.

She looked hard at Bofur and quietly held out a small ball of fire in her hand to emphasize her point, but Bofur only looked at the fire in her palm and guffawed, and it puffed out with a wisp of smoke as she snorted in disgust.

Thorin, Bard, Legolas, Balin, and Dwalin came out of the gate after hearing the laughter and commotion but they could only hear snatches since so many men and elves and the rest of the dwarves had crowded around Bofur and Ori.

"And then … fire and burned their… off," Bofur said, and the crowd roared.

"But that's not the best part," Ori said. "Then she called for birds and they … and then she … and then they … and you could hear the screams in the forest!"

Men, elves, and dwarves all convulsed with laughter, and the noise continued until Bofur turned to Grace who stood there frowning with her hands on her hips.

"My lady," he said, sweeping off his hat as all turned to her. "I congratulate you for your deep understanding of the sensitivity of men!" They all roared again and then as one all bowed low with great respect and no small degree of humor. Grace rolled her eyes, curtsied in response, and then walked quickly away, but Thorin reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" he asked.

"No," she said shortly, and she turned on her heel and left.

Then the workers saw Thorin, Bard, Legolas, Dwalin, and Balin standing there and as if on cue, they all clamped their mouths shut and quickly returned to work, although there was still widespread chuckling and shaking of heads. Bofur wiped the dirt off of his pants and looked up to see Thorin standing over him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asked sharply.

"I'd rather not, my lord, at the request of Lady Grace," he said trying but failing to keep the smile off of his face, "but no rights were violated, my lord, well, at least not hers." Ori choked down a laugh as he and Bofur quickly scampered off.

Bard and Legolas both tried to find out what had happened from their people, but everyone was determined to keep it from them for Grace's sake. She had earned their immediate respect and loyalty not only by saving Bofur and Ori but also Thorin from needing to avenge her. She had also given them the best laugh of their lives, and none of them was about to spoil it by getting her into trouble. Thorin met later that day with Bard and Legolas who could tell him nothing, and he threw up his hands.

"How does she do it?" he said angrily. "_Clearly_, she must have been accosted, but how is it that no one—no one!—will tell any of us what happened? Who is ruling here?"

Bard stroked his beard as he looked at Thorin with a twinkle in his eyes. "Apparently, in this case, she is," he said.

"I'm not amused, Bard," Thorin said. "Some men clearly approached her while she was with Bofur and Ori."

"And she _clearly_ protected both them and you as well, Thorin, from needing to challenge them," Legolas said with a smile, "and I gather she did it in a way that taught those men a lesson they will never forget."

"I have to find out what happened," Bard said. "I could use a good laugh."

Thorin stroked his beard and reluctantly a small smile appeared.

Soon though it became apparent to Thorin, Bard, and Legolas that they needed to be told as the loyalty of the men, elves, and dwarves to Grace was compromising their leadership. Even Dwalin and Balin were excluded since it was believed that they would tell Thorin, and they felt the estrangement.

Grace knew the time had come to confess all when she was summoned to a council meeting made up of those who were still in the dark. She entered the room and stood quietly. She fingered her loose hair absently, feeling sad and somewhat upset that the one time that she had to talk to Thorin was in a room with other men.

"Grace," Thorin said kindly, "We all know that something happened several days ago, and if it were of no import, we would all pass this off, but if we are to be the leaders our people need us to be we cannot be one side of an issue and they on the other, and for some reason this incident has done exactly that."

"Do you understand, lassie?" Balin asked.

"Of course," she said softly, "and I never meant it to come to this."

"Please tell us what happened, my lady," Bard said. "I am very much looking forward to it."

Grace smiled easily at Bard, but her face fell when she looked at Thorin, a fact seen by all in the room.

"You must not fly into a rage, Thorin," she said seriously, "and you must promise me first that Bofur and Ori will not be punished for this."

Thorin raised his eyebrows. "I think that is for me to decide after I've heard what you have to say," he said.

Grace faced off against him. "If you won't promise then you won't hear it," she said stubbornly.

Thorin's eyes flashed angrily as the rest hid various degrees of amusement, but before he could speak she said, "This is about me and my rights, and I will not stand for someone else being punished for my choices."

Before Thorin could speak, Balin tapped his arm and leaning over to him he said, "She has you there, laddie. I suggest you let her win this one."

Thorin's jaw worked back and forth, but finally he nodded his head.

"Well, we were in the fields looking at the dirt and assessing the damage to the soil when three men came out of the woods," she said. "The biggest looked at me and made a gesture that I knew meant trouble, although, to be honest, I don't know what it means."

Thorin motioned for her to repeat the gesture and when she did all the men gasped and Dwalin let out a loud curse. Thorin's eyes burned with fire and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the table.

"I knew they were going to hurt Bofur and Ori if they stayed to fight for me," she continued, "so I sent them away, and I told the men that I was wearing _your braids,_ _Thorin,_ but they _did not care_." Both Bard and Legolas caught the odd note in her voice, and looking at her carefully they understood the nuance. Then they raised their eyebrows at each other and knew that a talk with Thorin was needed later.

"Anyway, as they approached, I burned their clothes off," she said as the men's eyebrows all inched higher, "and I called for help and a flock of birds answered and started pecking away at their, their, um, modesty."

Bard covered his mouth with his hand as he began to shake silently with laughter, while Dwalin and Balin grinned from ear to ear, and Legolas bit his lip as his eyes twinkled merrily. Thorin's fury was hot, but at the thought of the birds pecking away he took a deep breath, and then he raked his hands through his hair and motioned for her to continue.

"I let them run after that but then I streamed a little more fire at their backsides to help them remember the lesson," she said softly. "They moved much faster after that with their hands clamped on their, their backsides, and they were yelping and squealing as they ran. The birds, of course, chased after them into the woods, and then I heard screaming as a few more forest friends joined in. That is all."

She looked up to see their mouths twitching and their shoulders shaking while they all tried mightily to look lordly. Only Thorin was quiet with his head down.

"Well, Grace," Thorin said looking up with absolute control save for a slight curl of his upper lip, "thank you for clearing that up. I am not angry, and that will be all."

Dwalin jumped up to quickly usher her out of the room, and just after the door closed she heard them explode with laughter. She shook her head and started walking away.

The scene inside the room was anything but lordly as they doubled over laughing, all except Thorin who had his head down and was quivering slightly. The room hushed as Balin touched his sleeve concerned, and Grace heard the sudden silence and turned back to listen. Then Thorin lifted his head and all saw tears running down his cheeks as he held his stomach and struggled to keep a straight face, and a renewed burst of laughter rang through the door. Grace huffed in annoyance at the sound of their merriment and marched back to her chambers.

"I don't think I've ever laughed so hard," Bard said finally wiping his eyes. "Thank the stars for her; she will keep us all young."

"By Durin, Thorin, our Gracie certainly is something!" Balin said when he could finally speak. Thorin nodded as he chuckled, still wiping his eyes.

"Yes, she is," he said. He looked up and around at them all and his lip started twitching. Then, as if on cue, all erupted in laughter until their stomachs ached.


	31. Reordering Priorities

**Chapter 31: Reordering Priorities**

As the others left, Legolas raised his eyebrows at Bard who inclined his head.

"Thorin," he said, "Legolas and I need a word." Thorin gestured them to sit down and waited.

"Did you hear what Grace said about her braids, and the men not caring?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, of course, I did," Thorin said, beginning to lose his good humor.

"She said that about them, but she meant it for you," Bard said quietly.

Thorin stood and huffed. "What do you mean?" he asked angrily. "She knows, by Durin, you all know how much I love her and how hard I've been working all these weeks to make a home for her, for us."

"How much time have you spent with her since you returned to Erebor weeks ago?" Bard asked.

"Every day," Thorin said angrily. "Every day I think about her and plan for her. She is never out of my mind."

Bard and Legolas looked at each other as they both clearly saw what had happened, and they knew that they needed to get through to him before his anger shut them out.

"She has no family here, no people of her own. How much time have you spent with her, doing something she would enjoy?" Legolas asked gently. "I believe that hair combing is part of courting in your culture. When was the last time you combed her hair?"

Thorin shook with rage. "How dare you! You have no right to ask such things of me!" he shouted. "I…." and he stopped as he realized that he could not remember the last time he combed Grace's hair. "No, it was just the other… it could not have been so long ago, not since we before we reached Lake-town."

His eyes opened wide as he realized that all his time spent with Grace was only in his mind and that he had effectively shut her out of his life. He was living for her but not with her, and he grew hot with shame that the two men standing before him seemed to hear and understand Grace at that moment better than he did.

"You both are better friends than I deserve," he said humbly, and he sat down heavily.

Bard and Legolas quietly left Thorin to his thoughts, but soon he left in search of Grace and realized with greater shame that he had no notion of where she was and how she was spending her time. He had seen her at the edges of his conversations wanting to talk to him, and he always thought that they had talked, but now he knew it was not so.

He walked through Erebor for what seemed like hours, until finally he found Agathil.

"Where is Lady Grace?" he asked kindly.

"My lord, when my lady is troubled she usually goes to the battlements to be in the fresh air," she said quietly, unknowingly paining Thorin further.

"Thank you, Agathil," he said and turned toward the stairs.

"What an utter fool I am," he thought. "How long has she been unhappy and I've not seen it? How long have I been her king but not her lover?"

He quickly walked up the stairs and turned the corner only to be stopped by her voice.

"I said I would stay to help him get his people home, but perhaps he no longer needs or wants me here now that he has his kingdom back," she said despairingly as she stood precariously atop the battlements in her armor and circlet and held out her arms to the sky. "Do you hear me? Is my promise complete? Is it time for me to come home? I am a stranger here without family or friends to call my own. I am a Therian, not a dwarf, and I do not belong here. Maybe his love for me was only to give him the hope and strength to get home and it is over now. I know nothing of these things, but I am so lonely. Please come for me, please take me home."

Thorin leaned heavily against the wall, his throat choking and his eyes stinging with tears as he heard her plaintive voice calling for help. He looked up and saw her pull the beads off of her braids and pull her hair free, as she waited to be taken home with her face lifted to the stars, and his heart clenched with pain.

"No," he whispered as his head fell. Then he took a deep breath. "No," he whispered again fiercely. "She needs to see and feel that I love her, not just know it."

Grace sighed sadly as no one came and turned to step down from the battlements when she saw Thorin kneeling on the rampart before her, his dark head bowed.

"What is wrong, Thorin?" she asked softly as she lightly stepped down. "You have all that you want now." She looked at him somberly as she held out the beads to him

"No, Grace," he said looking up at her. "I don't have what I want at all. I no longer have you." He stood and ran his hands through her hair at her temples and took the beads from her hands.

"I put these on you to tell the world that I love you," he said, "but I forgot to keep telling _you_ that I love you. You are always in my thoughts, and my love for you has only grown, but somehow I let go of you, yourself, and I am so sorry, my heart. Every day I think and plan for us, but I let my plans keep us apart, and it will not happen again. Forgive me, I beg you to forgive me."

Thorin tipped up her chin and kissed her on her lips, lingeringly at first and then more passionately, as she put her arms around his neck. At that he let out a choked cry as he pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her, making sure that she had no more doubts about his feelings for her.

"I love you, Grace, and I swear I will never stop telling you and showing you in every way possible," he said hoarsely as he pulled back and his eyes searched hers, "do you believe me?"

Grace looked at him in her calm, reasonable way that Thorin knew meant trouble.

"Yes, I believe you, Thorin," she said softly, "but your responsibities as king are all-consuming, and I am only in the way. You said long ago that I was a distraction, so perhaps I should stay in Dale until the major repairs are done. Bard has offered his hospitality for as long as I need."

Thorin immediately reared his head in anger.

"No!" he said firmly, "You are not going to Dale! I want you here. I want you here with me!" His voice softened. "All that I do is with the hope and joy that your being here gives me," he said as he ran his hand down her cheek.

Then he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his.

"I'm in love with you, Grace," he said in between feather-light kisses, "so in love with you. Even when we aren't together I know that you're here and that keeps me going. Do you understand?"

Grace sighed at his kisses, but she hesitated, and Thorin took her by the shoulders.

"Promise me," he said as his eyes lit with fear, "promise me that you won't go to Dale."

Grace nodded with her head down.

"No," he said forcefully, "I want to hear you say it. Please, my heart."

Then she smiled into his eyes.

"I will stay at Erebor, Thorin," she said. "I promise."

"No, my heart," he said with a relieved smile, "You will stay with _me_."

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**Ah, the trials of young lovers, um, in their case, not so young. Poor Thorin. He has so much to deal with and it's not over yet. Please review!**


	32. Grace, Thorin, and Wargs

**Can't have them angsting for long... I'm posting a couple of chapters now so I can work on something I think all will enjoy. Thank you so much for the great reviews and PM's. I appreciate everyone's imput since I'm new at this. BTW, Grace is not a Valar or Maiar. If you want to know just start thinking wayyyyyy outside the box. Clues have been sprinkled throughout the story, but more obvious ones are coming!**

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**Chapter 32: Grace, Thorin, and Wargs**

The next morning there was a knock at her door, and when Agathil opened it curiously Thorin stood there with a jeweled hair pin and his comb.

"Is Lady Grace awake?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. Grace walked into the room not realizing that the door was open, and Thorin's eyes opened wide as he saw her in a gown that while modest could not entirely conceal her beauty. He immediately turned around and tried to master the powerful emotions she stirred while she hurriedly dressed.

"Is it appropriate for you to enter, Thorin?" she asked.

"It is if Agathil is here," he said as he bowed and kissed the hand of the old woman who clearly loved Grace. Agathil blushed, astonished that the mighty king of Erebor would pay her such attention, and she looked at Grace happy to know that she would not walk the battlements in despair again.

Grace came back into the room in a simple gown of pink linen that Thorin thought lovely, and she stood with a question on her face. Thorin held up his comb, and she laughed as she kneeled on a pillow in front of him. He combed and rebraided her hair and refastened the beads and exhaled in relief when he was done. Then he stroked her hair with his fingers and placed the jeweled pin in her hair.

"I will see you every morning to brush and comb your hair, and we will spend time together before I meet with anyone else," he said smiling. He held up his hand when she protested that he was too busy. "I want this, and I know that you do too," he said, "so consider it an order from the king, and every night before I walk you to your chambers we will talk through our day."

Grace's face lit with joy, and she quickly wrapped her arms around him. He held her close with Agathil looking on, and he breathed in relief that all was well again.

Soon Thorin began involving Grace more and more in his plans and meetings as he realized that not only could he spend more time with her that way but also that she was truly helpful. Although still inexperienced in emotions, she instantly understood all matters of engineering, math, and the physical sciences, and her suggestions after understanding the problems at hand saved him and all the workers much time and effort.

One day she and Bofur told Thorin what they had found out about the soil in the countryside.

"This is indeed a formidable obstacle," Thorin said frowning, "but we have come too far to turn back now. There must be an answer."

Bofur looked at Grace and nodded for her to speak first.

"I think I may have an answer," she said, "but I will need to know what seed crops are required here."

Thorin instructed Bofur to help Grace with her plan and then left with Balin to oversee repairs.

"Where will the seed come from?" Bofur asked. "There are no farmers around here anymore."

Grace smiled and asked for paper and ink.

"I think know someone who can help us." She said.

Bofur gathered together those with knowledge, and together they compiled a list of what was needed.

"But who is going to help us, my lady?" Bofur asked. "And how will we pay them? Moving gold any distance is a risky venture."

Grace thought quickly and asked for a knife.

The men looked at her askance, but one proffered a large carving knife, and Grace deftly sliced off a long section of her hair around her eyes. The shorted strands bounced in coils around her temple and ear. She quickly braided the cut strands and packaged them together with her letter. Then she turned to Bofur.

"I think it's time to call on my friends again," she said.

Grace walked through Erebor so lost in thought about what needed to be done that she nearly walked into Balin as he stood with Thorin.

"Whoa, Gracie," Balin said as he steadied her. "Is anything amiss?"

Grace quickly looked around her and regained her bearings. As her head turned, the curls of her cut hair bounced near her temple.

"What is this?" Thorin asked curiously. "Did you cut your hair?"

Grace quickly tucked the strands behind her ear and smiled brightly.

Balin chuckled.

"Trying a new fashion, Gracie?" he asked fondly.

Grace mumbled something appropriate, but Thorin stepped closer.

"No, why did you cut it?" he asked with a smile.

Grace's brows drew together and she did not reply, and his curiosity turned serious.

"Grace," he said as he fixed his piercing eyes on her, "why did you cut your hair?"

"It was needed, Thorin," she said quickly. "Bofur said that it was dangerous to move gold over the mountains, and I didn't want to put anyone at risk."

Thorin cast a quick, smoldering glance at Balin who bit his lip in anticipation of what was coming.

"So you used your hair as payment," he said quietly, "as payment for the seed?"

She nodded nervously.

"And just who received this payment," he asked tightly, "which is considered here to be a sign of love and attachment?"

Grace closed her eyes as she realized her mistake.

"Prince Larin," she said in a small voice.

Balin quickly grabbed Thorin's arm to forestall what was rapidly building in his eyes, but he shook Balin off.

"I see," he said as he tried to control his breathing. He looked at Grace, who stood there downcast, and with great effort he let go of his jealousy and took her hands.

"I would not have you frightened of me or afraid to make a mistake," he said gently. "I will not deny that I resent him having even the least bit of you, but I know that you did this for my people, and I am grateful."

Balin sighed in relief as Thorin kissed her hand.

"You unfailingly think of others, Grace," he said lovingly, "and I can never fault you for that."

The weather quickly turned bitter and repairs at Dale ceased until spring. The men and elves continued to work inside Erebor to repair broken columns and other structural supports. At the first snow, Grace walked out on the battlements and held her arms out in curiosity. She laughed and twirled like a little girl in a long, white fur cloak while the workers all looked on with amusement. Then she looked out across the valley and spied several figures moving toward them in the snow. She cried out in joy and clapped her hands together.

"Wargs!" shouted Bard as he pulled out his bow. The men quickly ran outside with their tools and weapons and prepared to fight while Grace raced down the stairs and ran outside. The men tried to stop her but she was too fast.

"No, wait!" Thorin cried and he grabbed Bard's arm.

A large warg howled and started running toward Grace. She hugged it around the neck and rubbed its ears while it thumped its tail. Then she held out her arms as two shivering and injured ponies limped over to her. Pearl's head was on Steel's neck as he tried to hold her up, and the second warg walked behind them snapping and snarling whenever they started to lag. She patted the second warg on the neck and scratched its jaw.

The men murmured in disbelief while Bard's mouth hung open as he turned to Thorin and the other dwarves.

"This isn't possible!" he said.

Thorin looked at Grace proudly.

"It is with her," he said.


	33. Dancing and Planting

**A couple of cute chapters before things get ****_very_**** serious!**

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**Chapter 33: Dancing and Planting**

Soon enough the winter snows melted and the air warmed. Late one night Thorin walked through Erebor and checked on its defenses. As he went through the Great Hall, he heard a sound that he could not place at first and started walking toward it. Intrigued, he followed its source and looking up he saw a figure high on the rampart. The moonlight streamed on the battlements, making them glow in the clear night air. As he stood in the shadows, he saw Grace singing and dancing in the moonlight. Light and supple, she danced as he had never seen before. She twirled and leapt as she sang with her hair flying about her and long ribbons whipping and curling in the breeze. She wore a long white dress that floated about her as she danced from one end of the rampart to the other.

Enchanted, he leaned weakly against the wall and watched.

"This is who she is," he thought, "pure light and joy."

Soon she stopped dancing and looked into a small pot on the ledge and smiled in satisfaction.

"But will this work with so much?" she asked herself. "It must work. It will mean so much to him, so much to them all." Then she raised her arms to the sky.

"If you are watching," she said, "if you can hear me, please grant my request."

Thorin shifted his weight against the wall to better hear her and his scabbard scratched against the stone. Immediately, she turned and looked into the shadows as he stepped out of them.

"How long have you been there?" she asked.

"Long enough," he said sheepishly.

Grace looked at him affectionately.

"You have been working so hard today," she said, "that you have hardly had time to relax. Dance with me."

Thorin grimaced briefly at the thought, and Grace laughed.

"Do not kings dance?" she teased.

Thorin smiled in spite of himself.

"Yes, but not well," he said. "I have had to dance on many an occasion with those who wanted or expected something of me, but I've never danced before because it was my wish." His nose wrinkled as if he smelled something foul.

"And they are always jigs or some such nonsense that makes one look like a fool," he added grumbling.

Grace stepped toward him with her arms open.

"Do you wish it now?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

His eyes lit with fire.

"Very much," he said.

"I promise no jigs," she said with a smile, and then looking into his eyes she stepped closer and into his arms and together they moved as one as they danced slowly in the moonlight. Up and down the rampart they danced, his eyes savoring her as she twirled and spun lightly under his hand, dancing away from him and then moving back into his arms. Every time she came back into his arms his yearning for her only increased until he felt physical pain.

"Have I atoned for my neglect of her?" he thought. "Would she consider making Erebor her home? Is it enough for her to be with me when she could have anything and anyone she wants?"

Grace smiled and looked at Thorin with admiration.

"He moves so gracefully," she thought, "and is beautiful to watch. To see him in battle must be a sight to behold."

He twirled her slowly and pulled her to him as the dance came to an end. He was not tired but was breathing hard nonetheless.

"Why you should dance more, Thorin," she said. "You are a wonderful dancer."

He kissed her hand.

"Only because I am with you," he said in a low voice. Then he grew serious.

"Grace," he thought to her as he took her hands, "I need to ask you something. I failed you badly not long ago, and I heard you speak to your people about wanting to go home. Do you still wish that? Is it not enough to be with me?"

"Thorin, I…" she began aloud.

"…think it's time for the young lady to be abed," finished Balin. "I heard some lovely singing and decided to see who was brightening our nights, but I see that Thorin found out first." He glared at Thorin and nodded for Grace to excuse herself. She glanced helplessly at Thorin, then picked up her pot, and quickly made her way down the stairs.

"Be careful in being alone with her, Thorin," Balin said. "You could easily lose your head."

Thorin fumed as he remembered her crying out to the sky and pulling out her braids.

"Do you think I would dishonor her, Balin?" he said with frustration. "If not for a rare moment alone several weeks ago, she might not still be here," and he told Balin what had happened.

Balin looked askance at him.

"I understand, laddie," he said, "but still, love like yours for her would muddle anyone's judgment, and I say this for your sake as well as hers. You come from a long line of hot-blooded men. In fact, I remember your father and mother up here on the rampart, and one night I turned the corner and saw…."

**"**Enough, Balin!" Thorin interrupted as he rolled his eyes. "I don't want to hear the rest."

Only a few days later Grace stood again on the rampart atop the battlements and then she quickly ran for Thorin.

"You must come and see this!" she said excitedly.

She tugged and pulled him laughing up the stairs and then triumphantly pointed down the main road. Thorin inhaled sharply and Grace threaded her arm through his as they stood and watched a long line of caravans, carts, and wagons coming toward them with Dori, Oin, and Gloin leading the way. His people had come home.

"Aye," Gloin said as Thorin and his company asked for an accounting of the trip, "It was quite an undertaking, but we all made it and with what Lady Grace requested."

He pulled a letter out from inside his coat.

"For you, my lady, compliments of Prince Larin," he said.

Grace took the letter hesitantly and excused herself to read it.

Thorin found her later curled up in what was clearly her favorite place, the letter in her hand, and her face thoughtful. As she saw him approach, she smiled nervously and looked down.

"You don't need to tell me," he said reassuringly. "I have no right to know."

Grace looked up in relief and held out her hand.

"But I don't wish to keep secrets from you, Thorin," she said silently as he took her hand. "It is what you would expect. He has asked for my hand, but I think he understands that I didn't know the significance of what I was doing and so he didn't press a claim. If I don't accept his offer within a fortnight, he will know where he stands."

Before he could respond, Grace tore up the letter.

"I will write my thanks for his help," she said, "but that is all."

Thorin nodded in relief.

The next weeks were a flurry of activity as housing needed to be found for all of the dwarves and duties needed to be assigned. Skills had to be dusted off and relearned, and the mines and forges needed to become operational again. The remaining treasure was enough to pay for all expenses for years to come, but Thorin knew that his people would not thrive if they were idle, so he worked hard to see that all contributed to the rebuilding of their kingdom.

Soon it was time to plant the seed. Grace prepared herself and asked for Thorin and Bard to gather their people. She came out wearing the white dress and hair ribbons that Thorin had seen when she was dancing.

"I can make no promises," she said hesitantly, "and it will take all of us for this to work."

Once everyone was gathered, seed was distributed, and the people stood ready.

"What are you going to do, Grace?" Thorin asked curiously.

"I'm going to sing," she said.

She walked outside Erebor, looked at all the people who were waiting in the fields, and she started to sing and dance. Floating as if on air, she danced and sang an unearthly song that brought smiles and sighs of joy to all who listened. As she danced and twirled with her arms wide open, her golden glow grew brighter and brighter until streams of light began flowing from her into the land. Gray dirt began turning brown as the light spread like floodwaters soaking the earth. Dwarves and men holding seed bags began sowing wherever the soil was good until all the seed was planted. Soon the air was fresh and clean, and the people shouted for joy as they saw the fields begin to green.

Grace sang until her strength was gone, and coming to a sudden stop she stumbled, and some men held her steady as she gasped for air.

"Did it work?" she said breathing heavily. They looked around in wonder.

"Aye, my lady," one said in awe, "it did indeed."

She nodded her head but could not speak, and they helped her back to Thorin and Dwalin, who took her by the arms and led her inside. She started to shiver with exhaustion, and they wrapped her in thick blankets and put her in the healing room where Oin watched over her while she slept.

"How is she?" Thorin asked after she had slept for several hours.

Oin shook his head.

"She gives without thought to consequences, Thorin," he said, "and while it's a noble trait, this time she's exhausted herself, and there is no easy cure."

Thorin frowned and bit his lip.

"What does she need?" he asked looking Oin dead in the eye.

"She needs complete rest and no responsibilities for a time," Oin said, "but getting her to agree to that will take some doing."

Too soon Grace awoke and tried to go back to her duties, but Thorin overruled her.

"I am well, Thorin," she said irritably, "I can't shirk my duties when everyone else is working so hard."

He put his hand up.

"No, Grace," he said firmly, "this time, no. I need you well, and there are others who don't have enough to do. Teaching people how to serve is even more important than serving yourself."

Grace pouted and crossed her arms in frustration.

"Perhaps we can take some slow walks around Erebor after you rest for a while," Thorin said smiling. "I never did get to take you on a tour."

Grace looked up with joy.

"I would like that very much," she said eagerly.

Thorin pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

"So would I," he replied.

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**Please review!**


	34. Distant Kinsman, Part 1

**OK, everyone. It's time to board the emotional rollercoaster. **

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**Chapter 34: Distant Kinsman Part 1**

Some time later, Legolas rode up with a distant kinsman that he had not seen since they were children.

"May I present Faldor, my lady?" Legolas asked, and he explained their connection. Faldor dismounted easily and walked over to Grace where he bowed low before her.

"I have heard of nothing else but your praises, my lady, since I first journeyed to Mirkwood," he said with an open smile. He was beautifully blond with every feature perfect, almost as magnificent at Grace herself. His eyes were also remarkable, an unusual shade of dark blue and full of deep intelligence and good humor. Thorin did not like him.

"You are dressed for battle, Faldor?" Thorin asked curiously.

Faldor laughed self-consciously as he looked down at himself.

"I do not travel this far afield often, my lord," he said amiably, "and I suppose that I am being overly cautious—especially with Legolas by my side. It must appear foolish to your eyes." He ducked his head slightly in embarrassment.

"Not at all, Faldor," Grace said graciously as she tried to put him at ease.

Faldor now gave Grace his full attention, and his eyes widened and he smiled broadly before taking note of her braids. He turned to Thorin.

"With your permission, of course, my lord?" he asked with perfect courtesy and tone of respect as he held out his hand to Grace.

Thorin nodded shortly, and Faldor took Grace's hand. A dazzling smile blossomed on his face, and he cleared his throat as he stared fervently at her for a few moments, unaware of Thorin's immediate agitation. He kissed Grace's hand lingeringly and held it for a moment before she pulled away. Then Faldor glanced at Thorin and saw the heat in his eyes. The elf quickly turned to a neutral topic.

"I have seen the results of your farming techniques, my lady," he said as he waved his hand at the fields green with healthy crops, "and I am most impressed, most impressed indeed."

Thorin pulled Legolas aside, who had come at his request.

"Who is this elf, Legolas?" he asked irritably, "and has he always been this handsome?"

Legolas smiled and leaned in. "I certainly do not remember him as this handsome when I last saw him," he said, "but it has been many years and maturity changes much. We never knew each other well though."

"Does he know what she is?" Thorin asked as he looked over at Faldor chatting comfortably with Grace. They looked perfect together, two supremely beautiful people smiling at one another and laughing easily in each other's company. Thorin swallowed hard against the sudden insecurity he felt. Legolas looked down and sighed.

"I did not tell him, Thorin," he said, "and I am not sure, but news about her is spreading fast, and those who know the legends well may be putting the pieces together."

Grace looked up at Faldor as if trying to place something, and he looked down at her warmly as he asked many questions about her travels and experiences with the dwarves. She was careful not to mention anything extraordinary.

"Grace," Thorin called. "Legolas and I need to discuss something briefly. Do you mind?" He looked over at Faldor and frowned. "We will be back soon—_very_ soon."

Grace asked if Faldor would like a tour of Erebor. Then she winced as she felt pain in her temple, and she rubbed the tender spot.

"Are you well, my lady? We need not take an extensive tour if you are tired," he said kindly. "Actually, I am something of a scholar, so I would very much appreciate visiting Erebor's repository if it escaped unscathed."

It had, and Grace was happy to guide him there. On their way, Balin joined them.

"Thorin asked if I would help you show Faldor around since Erebor is still somewhat knew to you, Gracie," he said.

Faldir laughed at her nickname. "That is endearing, my lady," he said as he smiled at Balin. "You are surely much loved here."

Balin's eyebrows rose a fraction as he quietly observed the elf and decided that he did not like him either. Grace ushered Faldor into Erebor's impressive repository of books and scrolls dating back many centuries. The large room was lined with tall inset shelves that reached almost to the gray vaulted ceiling. Long, green malachite tables allowed for the unrolling of scrolls, and tall wooden ladders on rollers ran along a gold railing so that books and scrolls on the upper shelves could be reached. Various nooks and crannies lined with cushions allowed for comfortable reading, and a large book on a pedestal at the entrance served to keep records of which items were in use.

"Is there anything you are particularly interested in, Faldor?" Grace asked curiously as she pointed out the various collections.

"I am interested in everything, my lady," he said easily, "as knowledge is power—don't you think?—but I have recently become much interested in family history and ancient legends."

Grace looked up quickly and Balin made a noise. "Why family history, Faldor?" she asked, smoothly passing over his other comment.

"My people live some distance from the rest of my kin," he said somberly, "and I regret that we are not closer, but I find that understanding my family's history gives me opportunities to tie us closer together."

"Is that why you chose to visit Legolas?" she asked, thinking warmly of his efforts.

"Yes, my lady," he said with enthusiasm, "I found it an opportune time, and now I am even more delighted to have made your acquaintance." He made a short courtly bow and his face registered only affability, but Balin stroked his beard and looked on with uneasiness.

"So tell me about your kin, Faldor," Grace said, but before he could answer there was a knock at the door with a message for Balin to meet with Thorin and Legolas. Balin looked over at Grace, unhappy to leave her alone with the elf.

"I'll only be a moment, my lady," he said gruffly as he left to find them.

"Alas, my lady," Faldor said, "I am afraid that there is much discord at present among my kin that I seek to resolve. I regret to say that sometimes the better rulers are the ones without the titles."

"As in the one with the qualities of a king should be king in fact?" she asked.

He moved toward her eagerly. "Yes, that is it exactly!" he said. "Why should a kingdom or peoples suffer because the ruler is not fit to rule, especially when there are others much better suited?"

Grace looked down to see his hand gripping her arm tightly. He removed his hand as if he had been burned.

"Forgive me, my lady!" he said hastily. "I was carried away by your kindred spirit in this matter and I forgot myself."

Grace smiled. "I am not offended, Faldor," she said courteously, "but returning to our discussion, seeking to displace a ruler is a very serious matter indeed, and although I am inexperienced in these issues here, I believe that it is every subject's duty to help and encourage his leader by offering his talents and gifts freely. Perhaps respect, loyalty, and unity of purpose may make up for deficiencies. No one is faultless after all."

Faldor nodded but without enthusiasm. "I see the point of your argument, my lady," he said, "and I admire your wisdom."

"Also, great ability often coincides with equally great ambition, causing one to be unfairly and unjustly critical of his leaders," she added, "and that is a very dangerous development indeed."

"Some say so, my lady," he offered. He looked around the room admiring the books and scrolls. "I see that you have much on ancient legends, my lady, but nothing about Therians."

Grace inhaled sharply at this sudden turn of conversation, and he turned to her with a gleam in his eye.

Meanwhile, Balin knocked on the main council room door.

"What is it, Balin?" Thorin asked. Balin stood there confused.

"You sent for me, Thorin?" he asked looking from Thorin to Legolas.

Thorin shrugged. "I sent no message," he said. "It must have been a mistake."

"But…." Balin said, and then his eyes opened wide. "Gracie!"

"You did not come to visit Legolas, did you? You came here to meet me," she said, slowly backing away and trying to reach the door.

"I have a great goal to achieve, my lady, to build my kingdom, and we are kindred spirits," he said as he cut off her access.

"I wear Thorin's braids and he will kill you if he finds about about this!" she cried. "Stop now and leave, and I will say nothing."

"Oh, but I want you to say something," he purred. "Do not protect him. Let him come to me."

Then he waved his hand as if swatting a fly. "He is a mere dwarf and not worthy of you," he said dismissively. "I will take care of him soon enough. I heard that he gave you your name. Joy would have been a better choice, and joy would serve me well now."

Her eyes narrowed as something dimly stirred in her mind, and she grew angry at his elaborate charade. "I can defend myself, Faldor!" she cried.

"But you won't," he said as he circled her slowly like a hunter approaching prey. "I'll wager that you would do almost anything to prevent Thorin from challenging me, and what would Legolas think if you attacked his kinsman? No, you won't defend yourself."

She hesitated and he pushed her against a wall and squeezed her face in one hand while pressing the other on her neck. She felt his breath on her face and she concentrated and burned his hands enough to sting.

"Ah!" he cried as he snatched them away, giving her time to put a large granite table between them. "You have learned much in your travels."

Thorin, Legolas, and Balin ran to the repository as fast as they could and opened the door to see Faldor calmly putting a book away while Grace stood on the other side of the table with her back to them, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. No one could mistake the charged tension in the room, and Legolas quickly pulled Faldor outside while Balin and Thorin ran to her.

"What happened in here, Grace?" Thorin demanded trying to catch her eyes. "Did he approach you? Did he put his hands on you?"

"I am well, Thorin," she said quietly while keeping her head down. "It is of no matter." Balin and Thorin exchanged glances over her head, and Thorin motioned for Balin to leave the room. As the door opened, they all heard loud voices as Legolas demanded an accounting of Faldor's actions.

"Grace, let me see you," he asked softly but she shook her head emphatically. "I have to know what happened here. Did he touch you? Did he offend you in any way?"

She tried to sidle past him in a futile effort to run and hide until all the evidence was gone, but he stepped in front of her with his arms open to embrace her and as he did a sob wrenched from her throat.

"Grace?" he asked in torment as he struggled to stay composed. She put her hands over her face and leaned against his shoulder as his sturdy arms wrapped around her.

His breath hitched as he imagined what could have happened, but he kept his voice calm for her sake.

"My heart, my heart," he said tenderly as his voice broke, "do not keep this from me."

She started to tremble, and he gently held her in front of him, pulled her hands away, and lifted her face. He inhaled sharply and his nostrils flared when he saw red marks along her cheeks and Faldor's hand print on her neck. His eyes narrowed, and he bared his teeth in primal fury.

"How dare he!" he cried, giving full vent to his pain and rage. "I will _kill_ him!"

Grace spread her hands on his chest in a vain effort to hold him back.

"No!" she cried fearfully as tears streamed down her cheeks. "That's what he wants. This was all planned. He wants to kill you and take me with him."

"He will never get that far," he seethed, and he strode outside with his hands balled into fists while she collapsed in a chair.

Thorin shouted his challenge as Legolas and Balin struggled to restrain him, and the elf mockingly accepted. Combat to the death between their king and Faldor was announced to all of Erebor, and a loud gasp was the last thing Grace heard before she put her hands over her face and sobbed.

"This can't be happening!" she cried. "This can't be happening!"

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**For those who have been itching for Thorin to finally have a go at someone, here's your opportunity. Get ready to rumble in the next chapter! Please leave your reviews and comments. They are so helpful!**


	35. Distant Kinsman, Part 2

**Thank you so much for your reviews and PM's! They're so encouraging, and I am so happy that you are finding time and room in your hearts for my characters. I have great affection for them all-well almost all.**

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**Chapter 35: Distant Kinsman Part 2**

Loud commotion and shouting shook Grace out of her daze. She looked out of the door and over the railing to see all of Erebor streaming toward the front gate. Many dwarves were sobbing and others were cursing angrily in Khuzdul. The warriors among the men were grim and walked slowly with their fists clenched. Families found each other in the crowd, gathered together, and walked out holding hands, their heads bowed.

"I can't let this go on," she thought with growing determination as her heart broke over the tears and wails of the people. "I won't!" She saw Dwalin running by and she hastened to stop him.

"Where is Thorin?" she asked, holding out her hands.

"He's preparing to fight Faldor to the death, my lady," he said somberly. He looked at her face and his breath hissed as he saw the marks. "As well he should."

"Will he succeed?" she asked fearfully.

Dwalin flexed his fists. "Thorin is as fierce a warrior as ever I have seen of any race, my lady," he said, "but warrior elves are every bit as lethal. I hope he is not one. Legolas also challenged, but Thorin wouldn't accept it. He is standing alone." His chest swelled with pride for his king.

She bit her lips as she ran to where the dwarves were helping Thorin prepare.

"You must not do this, Thorin," she cried as she saw him in full battle armor. "I'm not worth it! Think of your people."

For a moment his fierce gaze softened, but he did not stop buckling on his leather arm bracers and strapping on his sword.

"I am your protector," he said roughly, "and I will not leave you to that monster who dared molest you inside your own home." Then he looked heatedly into her eyes.

"You are worth _everything_ I have," he said firmly, "and it is my _privilege_ to fight for you!"

She exhaled helplessly and then looked to the others and searched their eyes for an ally.

"Balin, Gloin, Oin, are you going to let him go through with this?" she pleaded.

"Aye, my lady," Gloin answered with anger as he took in her disheveled appearance, "and any one of us would do the same."

Grace pulled Balin outside the door. He hesitated, but she pulled on his sleeves and forced him to face her.

"Please listen to me," she said. "I'm not putting the pieces together, but there is more going on here. What are my rights, Balin? Do I have any rights to defend _myself_?"

"Gracie, I…" he said as he shook his head helplessly.

"What if I remove my beads and braids?" she asked quickly. "Would that release him from his obligation?"

Balin shook his head.

"No, Gracie, lass," he said. "Thorin is committed to fight to the death for you, and he would no matter if you hated him. It is done."

"No!" she cried softly as she paced in the hallway. Then she turned back to him.

"What are the terms of combat?" she asked.

Balin shook his head.

"It's no use lass," he said sadly, but she shook her head angrily.

"Balin, what _are_ the terms?" she asked desperately.

He sighed.

"It has to be a fair fight of one weapon chosen by the protector, and there must be no deceit," he said. "If there is deceit that unjustly favors one opponent then the verdict is death, but I don't see how there can be deceit in this case."

She turned on her heel to think. "I wouldn't be too sure," she said.

All of Erebor had already gathered when Thorin and Faldor strode out to the makeshift arena in front of the massive gate. The dwarves were somber and cheered their king on while hissing and shouting dwarven curses at Faldor. Bard came galloping up after he heard the news, and he and Legolas stood off to the side intensely discussing what had transpired and making plans to protect Grace and deal with Faldor should Thorin lose.

Grace went over every word that the elf had said to her looking for some clue that she missed.

"Kindred spirits, trying to find a way to build his kingdom, bring together his family, discord," she thought as she recounted his words, "and how did he know about my name?" Then something came to mind.

"'You have learned much in your travels,'" she said aloud. "How would he know that unless…" She gasped. "He is here."

She ran for her armor hoping she was not too late.

Thorin and Faldor met in the middle of the arena where they both listened to Dwalin's reading of the rules. Thorin trembled with rage and could barely contain himself from leaping for Faldor's throat while the elf looked on with amusement.

"You will die for touching her," Thorin snarled low and dangerous. Faldor's lip curled in contempt.

"Ask yourself why she was able to defend herself from all others except me, dwarf," he said smugly. "That should give you some idea who you're dealing with."

Thorin looked murderously at him and then suppressed his anger as his training took over. When Dwalin stepped out of the ring, they circled each other with bloodlust in their eyes. At the first clash of steel, Faldor lunged, his footwork perfect, while Thorin parried and swirled to catch him off-guard, and Faldor had to flip his sword behind his back to counter Thorin's blade. Both were master swordsmen and warriors, and their savage dance as their blades flickered and clashed impressed all who watched. The crowd knew that regardless of the outcome the fight would be legend.

Then Thorin feinted and slashed toward Faldor's right, but the elf lightly dodged the stroke and thrust into Thorin's side. He grunted loudly at the impact and staggered back. A great gasp rose from the crowd and then silence, but the mitril armor held and Thorin looked up with a wicked grin. Advancing in a fury, Faldor slashed at Thorin's throat, but he ducked and spun to the side slicing Faldor behind one knee. The elf screamed in surprise and anger and as he turned Thorin dodged his sword, pulled back, and punched Faldor in the stomach with all the anger and jealousy he had suppressed since Prince Larin first saw Grace. The elf's eyes bulged while Thorin looked on with immense satisfaction, and then he slammed his fist under Faldor's chin. His head snapped back and Thorin lunged toward him, but the elf leapt back with his sword and instantly pivoted back into position.

"I will leave your crushed body for the ravens," he gasped as he retreated from Thorin's advance. He regained his bearing quickly and growled, "And I will _have_ her dwarf. Make no mistake. I WILL HAVE HER!"

The large crowd erupted in anger at his insult, and Thorin smirked darkly.

"By my sword or my people, elf," he said with deadly purpose, "you will not leave this arena alive."

Bard and Legolas looked at each other and simultaneously reached for their bows and notched their arrows.

"Despite the fact he is my kinsman," Legolas said grimly, "I will kill him for that."

Bard nodded.

"We're all in this together, Legolas," he said seriously, and they moved to get into position. "I was almost as happy as Thorin to see those punches land as hard as they did," he added. The elf prince nodded tightly.

Meanwhile Grace raced through the halls and down the stairs. The men fought faster and fiercer, and she ran quickly in between them and struck up their swords with her own.

"Grace, what are you doing?" Thorin cried horrified as he grabbed her arm and tried to push her out of the way.

"I claim foul!" she cried to the crowd as she stood between the men facing Faldor with her swords. "Faldor is forfeit for deceit!"

Faldor smiled and raised his eyebrows at her.

"My lady," Dwalin said, "they were both checked and neither carries any advantage."

Grace shook her head vigorously.

"He is not an elf!" she said loudly as she kept her eyes and swords trained on Faldor. "It is He Who Turned."

Faldor leaned on his sword breathing easily as he nodded at her with a strange light in his eyes.

"That was very quick of you, sister," he said, "especially since you never knew me when I was part of our happy family, but I have come too far not to claim you for my kingdom after I failed to do so at our last encounter."

The crowd murmured in confusion when he called Grace his sister and looked at him closely. His beauty distorted as his true nature surfaced, and his hair turned dark and his face deathly pale. His features were still beautiful but now cold and cruel with an ugly twist to his mouth.

"What now sister?" he taunted as he spun the sword in his hand. "Will you fight your own kin? Will you not even hear the justice of my cause?"

With blinding speed, Grace leapt forward with both of her swords and slashed his sword arm and other leg before he had the chance to react. He growled with pain and his arm shook as he steadied his sword.

"You are no kin of mine!' she cried, "and I will kill you before you spill your poison," and she looked over at Legolas with a flash of her eyes, telling him to move everyone away to safety, but all were too engrossed to leave.

Faldor fell back enraged. "Not without the dwarf helping you," he sneered as he glanced bitterly at Thorin. "I was surprised by his courage the last time but with him out of the way I'll have you soon enough."

Then he snarled and leapt for Thorin who quickly sidestepped and brought his blade down on Faldor's hilt knocking the sword from his grasp. Faldor glared at him, stepped back, and quickly composed himself.

"I admit that swordplay is not my favorite means of warfare, little sister," he said casually as he held his bleeding sword arm. "Shall we try something more interesting?"

She reached behind her back and Thorin took her hand.

"I stand with you, my heart," he said silently. "We will win this together." She nodded and prepared herself.

"You will find no room between us traitor," she said strongly. Faldor looked around him.

"But there is much room for me to work among the others, isn't there, Guardian of Joy?" he said bitingly, "and isn't that the best way to wound someone? To hurt those they love?"

Grace's brows drew together and then she laughed, surprising Faldor.

"I must thank you for that," she said now feeling sure of victory. "You have just given me the memory I need and given yourself away. It is more mercy than you deserve for me to tell you to leave now before my true kin arrive, and they will if you stay much longer. They will never stop fighting you. You will be hunted until the end of time."

His eyes flashed at her with intense hatred that all felt like a bitter wind.

"Don't think _yourself_ beyond punishment if you stay with this creature," he said maliciously as he glanced at Thorin. "The laws of our kind are quite clear and there is no exception."

He raised his palms toward Grace and looking into her eyes he shouted words that immediately froze the air and struck terrible fear into the hearts of those watching. Some of the dwarves cried out while others cowered on the ground with their hands over their faces. Despairing parents tried to cover the ears of their screaming children while others simply collapsed to the ground.

She raised her palms toward him in response while Thorin stood next to her with his hand on her neck. She started speaking calmly and loudly and smiling all the while. Faldor answered back in harsh, guttural tones that all could tell revealed his contempt for life and lust for power. Darkness began to build around him and those near him sobbed in despair and anguish. Grace began to sing, and using the words of her people she sang loudly and strongly as she lifted her voice to the skies. Faldor shouted louder, his darkness coiling around him, and darkness and light collided and shot high into the air. Bard and Legolas started moving everyone behind Thorin and Grace as she glowed brighter and brighter in response. Thorin stood with her and added his courage to her own.

Faldor began to shake with rage while Grace sang, her voice exultant and her face alight with joy. Her light pushed against him, forcing him back as she walked forward. Though the crowd did not understand her words, many began to sing the melody with her, and her strength and joy enveloped them all. Finally, Faldor saw that this battle was lost and with a final curse he faded away.

After a brief hush, the crowd cheered, and all ran to thump Thorin on the back and hug Grace. The crush of people separated them, but then Thorin turned, held his arms out to her, and she ran to him.

"You truly are the Guardian of Joy, aren't you?" he asked.

She smiled and kissed him. "Yes," she said, "I remember that now, and my weakness is despair, but you have helped me overcome that with your love."

Bard and Legolas came up to them, and Grace glanced at Thorin.

"May we suspend the rights today for a happy occasion?" she asked. He nodded smiling, and she launched herself into Bard's waiting arms. He hugged her close and kissed her on the cheek, savoring the moment. Then she turned to Legolas, and he swung her around and held her gently.

"I ask you both to let your people know that I will not allow any more challenges for combat," she said. "None of us wants to go through this again."

"After that display from both of you," Bard said shaking his head in awe, "I'm sure we won't have to."

"And Legolas," she said, "do not fear for your kinsman Faldor. I am certain that he is safe at home and has no knowledge of this."

Thorin looked closely at her and saw that though she was very happy it cost her something to fight against one of her own kind.

"I think that Grace deserves a rest," he said as he took her hand.

"As do you," she said.

"Which gives me an idea," he said smiling. He called Balin over and made some arrangements. "Grace, meet me at the front gate after you see Agathil. I think we've earned a reward after the events of the day."

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**I hope you are satisfied by the action scenes and the results of the challenge. Let me know what you think. I also left more clues as to what Grace is. Anyone figure it out yet? Please leave me your comments and thoughts. Enjoy!**


	36. Hunger Pangs

**Chapter 36: Hunger Pangs**

Grace washed and changed out of her armor into a very soft, pale blue, scoop-necked gown that did not quite reach her ankles. Her hair was loose and bounced around her face in long, thick curls. Thorin met her at the front gate after scrubbing off the dirt and sweat of the battle, and he wore only breeches, boots, and a blue tunic open at the neck. His clean hair rolled in thick waves over his shoulders and down his back, and he smelled of musk. Bowing to Grace, he took her hand and walked with her to a shady spot near a bubbling creek where thick blankets and pillows were laid. Agathil sat knitting a short distance away while Balin read a book in a comfortable chair that had been brought out.

"I know that we cannot sleep close together at night as we used to," Thorin said, "but it is quite acceptable to take a nap together out in the open, so after you, my heart."

Grace sank down on the pile of blankets and pillows and pulled him down beside her.

"I'm so happy to have you here well and whole,"she said as she ran her fingers through his hair. "That was his plan, you know, to kill you so I would succumb to despair and perhaps join him."

Then she looked down and absently fingered the embroidery on one of the pillows. She sighed and Thorin gently lifted her chin with his hand and smiled at her sympathetically. She looked up and saw his love for her in his eyes, and she put her hand over his.

"I must admit though," she said sadly, "that I struggled to fight one of my own kind, even though he ceased being one of us many eons ago."

"I know," Thorin said, and he took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, "but you are one of us now, and I hope you feel that."

"Yes," she said. "I'm beginning to."

He shifted and winced and his hand flew to his left side.

"Oh!" Grace cried softly, "You are injured. Let me see."

"It's nothing," he said, "it will heal soon enough."

But she shook her head as she tugged on his shirt and lifting it up she saw a large and ugly blue-purple bruise on his ribs.

Then Thorin remembered something.

"What did he mean when he said that you would be punished if you stayed with me?" he asked, "that there were laws about such things?"

Grace shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know," she said. "It might have been an empty threat to drive a wedge between us. But let us live you as you said long ago; doing what we know is right regardless of who may be watching, and what is right is for me to help you with this."

Thorin shook his head.

"There's nothing to be done but let time take its course," he said as he lay back against the cushions with his arms folded behind his head.

She pursed her lips.

"Well, I can sing and see if it helps," she said, "or we could try the remedy that the children say works very well."

Thorin smiled lazily and closed his eyes.

"And what do the children say?" he asked without expectation.

"They say that kissing injuries takes away the pain," she said. "Is that true?"

Thorin's eyes popped open and he propped himself up on his elbows.

"They say that, do they?" he mused. "Yes, I seem to remember something about that." He stared heatedly at Grace with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then he glanced at Balin to see if he was watching, but he appeared engrossed in his book. Thorin looked back at Grace with a sly grin.

"I suppose we could try that first," he said slowly, and he lay back down and pulled his shirt up higher.

"Do I kiss it hard or gentle?" she asked innocently, "and is it one or many?"

Thorin started breathing faster and his voice came out low and hoarse.

"It's gentle and many," he said while struggling to master his emotions.

Grace leaned over and started placing gentle kisses on his side. Her hand rested on his chest and and her fingers and hair touched him lightly as she moved her mouth. Thorin immediately sagged down and moaned as fire spread through his body.

"Am I hurting you?" Grace asked as she straightened up. Her brows drew together in concern.

"No, no," Thorin said hastily, "it feels wonderful. I don't even feel the pain anymore."

"Truly?" she asked clearly delighted. She bent over and started kissing him again, and he closed his eyes and surrendered to his vision of him loving her as his very own.

"Ahem!" came a loud and disgruntled voice. Both Grace and Thorin looked up to see Balin glaring at them over the top of his book.

"I'm helping him with his injury, Balin," she said happily. "The children told me that kissing injuries is effective."

Balin turned his disapproving eyes on Thorin whose vision had fled.

"It really does work, Balin," he said sheepishly.

Balin pursed his lips.

"Is the pain all gone then, laddie?" he said both stern and mischievious at once. "I could have a go at your bruise if you think you need more help or Agathil here. For medicinal reasons, of course."

Agathil looked over and giggled as she caught on to Balin's meaning.

Thorin immediately straightened up in alarm.

"No, no," he said quickly. "I'm perfectly well now, thank you."

Balin nodded as his eyes bored into Thorin.

"I thought so," he said.

Then Thorin pulled Grace down beside him and tucked her head on his shoulder.

"I think it's time for that nap," he said with resignation. She yawned.

"Yes, it is," she mumbled.

For the next several weeks, all people could speak of was the battle and its implications. Grace was aware that the dwarves might view her differently after what they saw, so she worked very hard to put them at ease. She spent all her spare time with them, visiting them in their places at work and home, playing with the children, and finding ways to make their lives easier.

Soon, Thorin noticed a change in Grace. Calling Balin to him one morning, he asked, "Does Grace not look thinner than is usual for her?" Balin looked at her and shook his head, but as she bent over to help a child who had fallen, he noticed her shoulder blades showing sharply through her dress. Then they looked at each other with concern.

"Grace!" Thorin called, "Please come to me." She walked over to them with a gentle smile on her face, but Thorin noticed that she was pale and her eyes looked tired.

"You want something of me?" she asked.

Thorin looked at her carefully.

"You never did get the rest you needed after sowing the seed," he said, "and then you exhausted yourself battling Faldor. I'm concerned that you're still doing too much. You should be resting."

Grace smiled and shook her head.

"I have not been doing very much at all," she said. "I'm tired but I'm well." Suddenly she swayed on her feet and Thorin caught her thin arm.

"You need to sleep and now," he said, waving away her protests. He and Balin walked her to the healing room and put her on a large couch. Thorin pulled a thick throw over her.

"I will check on you soon, but I want you to sleep," he said with a frown.

Grace slept until early evening and when she awakened, she was struck with pain in her stomach. Oin found her curled up and clutching a cushion to her belly. He called Thorin who came in and kneeled before her.

"What's wrong, my heart?" he asked as he stroked her hair.

"I hurt, Thorin," she said grimacing. "I hurt here." She rubbed her stomach, and suddenly a noise broke the silence. Thorin smiled.

"Do you think you might be hungry?" he asked. "You have been here now for many months, so I think perhaps the time has come for you to start eating."

She looked up in surprise.

"It hurts when you don't eat?" she asked. "Dwarves must be in pain often then because they never seem to stop eating."

Thorin opened the door to the hallway and called an attendant.

"Send for some fruit," he said. A platter bearing grapes and cherries arrived shortly thereafter. He took the platter and placed it on the couch.

"Slowly now," he said, "we don't know what effect this will have." He selected a large grape and told her to bite into it and chew slowly. She obeyed and her eyes opened wide as she savored the taste. To Thorin's surprise, she quickly popped the rest of the grape in her mouth and reached for a handful of cherries.

"Slowly now, my heart," he said with a smile, "and you have to spit out the cherry pits. You can't eat those whole."

Thorin found great enjoyment in explaining the different foods and watching her childlike delight in discovering their flavor. Her thinness disappeared and was replaced by glowing health. He noticed a fine pink sheen on her cheeks and thought her more enticing than ever.

Slowly, she started drinking water, and Thorin, Oin, and Balin anxiously watched her sleep for three nights until they were satisfied that no more harm would come to her.

"She's becoming one of us, laddie," Balin said with satisfaction.

Thorin grinned and then a shadow crossed his face.

"But will she be punished for that?" he thought with apprehension. "Will she be punished for being with me?"

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**Thanks for reading! Anybody want to take another guess as to what Grace is? Here's another clue: I suppose I could have categorized my story under another listing besides adventure/romance. Happy hunting and drop me a line!**


	37. Author's note

**Hi all,**

**I just wanted to say many thanks to you who have embraced my story and offered critiques and encouragement. I'm especially amazed at those readers logging in from other countries. We have a special community here, and it's very heartening to see people gathering from around the globe to share what they enjoy. So thank you to you all.**

**We are now rounding into the home-stretch of the story, and more obvious clues as to Grace's identity will come thick and fast. At some point, it should become obvious, although I admit taking a few liberties with Grace's appearance, so I will tell all at the end-or at least tell you where to look to find out. Have fun and thanks again for taking Grace and my version of Thorin into your hearts.**

**Cheers,**

**Lillianpost**


	38. A Pearl of Great Price

**Thorin goes for it! Enjoy and please review!**

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**Chapter 38: A Pearl of Great Price**

The morning after Balin pulled Thorin aside outside his council chambers and asked for a moment of his time. Thorin nodded regally and waited while Balin tugged on his beard and yanked on his mustache as he worked up his courage. He paced back and forth in front of Thorin, turning periodically to open his mouth and wag a finger but then he would shake his head and continue pacing. Thorin watched Balin's odd behavior with raised eyebrows, and he crossed his arms and smirked with amusement at Balin's mutterings.

"Well?" Thorin asked finally. "What is it, Balin? You've never had trouble speaking your mind before."

Balin stopped and looked him dead in the eye.

"Why haven't you asked her yet?" Balin said. "You know she cares for you."

Thorin snorted as he looked away. He wrapped his arms around himself and frowned, and the lines of his face hardened with frustration.

"Caring is not enough to agree to join with someone," he said angrily.

Balin looked at him closely with a twinkle in his eye

"I have no doubt that she loves you, laddie," he said.

Thorin sighed heavily. He raked his hands through his hair and rubbed the furrow in his brow.

"I know she does, Balin, she loves everyone," he said, "and I know that I am special to her, but I want her to be in love with me, to want me to be her husband, and I don't know that she does yet."

Balin shook his head disapprovingly

"Haven't you asked her?" he asked as he stood with his hands on his hips.

Thorin turned and glared at him. His jaw worked back and forth as his piercing eyes fixed on his old friend and advisor.

"I tried to, Balin," he grumbled, "but, by Durin, if we don't get interrupted every time I ask her something important, or try to spend time alone with her, and I'm not going to ask her in front of an audience."

"You can't do this any longer," Balin said. "She has fulfilled her promise and you know it. You have to ask her."

Thorin glared at him.

"I will soon," he said. "This is not your affair."

Balin shook his head and stood as tall as he could.

"I know that you're my king," he said, "but the lass has no father here and that being so, I'm acting as her father now and a father trumps a king. You need to ask her and tonight."

Thorin matched Balin's stance.

"Or what?" he asked challengingly.

The two squared off with their fists clenched.

"Or I'll tell her the truth," Balin said firmly.

Later that afternoon, it was Thorin's turn to pace after he recognized that Balin was right. He walked back and forth in the outdoor rock gardens on the low hills of the mountain with his hands behind his back as the sun began to set. His face looked more fierce than usual for the worried frown upon it as he practiced what he would say to Grace. Muttering under his breath, he failed to see her standing in front of him. She wore a cream outfit of dwarvish design with a peasant blouse, laced waist and full skirt. The bell sleeves had lace ruffles falling to the wrists and the square neckline was embroidered with gold thread. Her hair flowed over her her shoulders, and a moonstone necklace glowed around her neck.

"She looks like a bride," he thought longingly.

"You wanted to see me, Thorin?" she asked. "Is all well?"

"It may never be again after this day," he thought, and he motioned for her to sit down on a cushioned stone bench beside him.

"Are you finally happy here, Grace?" he asked carefully as he looked into her eyes.

She looked surprised and answered, "Yes, of course. Everyone has made me feel welcome even though I am a stranger to them, and I'm very grateful that they didn't look on me differently after what had happened. You should be very proud of your people, Thorin."

"You've won their hearts," he said tenderly. He looked up at the sinking sun briefly and then turned to her again. "Grace, you have kept your promise faithfully, and I'm very grateful, but you owe me nothing more on that account," he said.

"Oh," she said, "so it is done?" She glanced down at her hands in her lap. "What happens now?"

Thorin looked out into the sky as he answered.

"That depends on what you want," he said quietly.

She played with her fingers while she thought.

"What if I want to stay here?" she asked softly.

Thorin turned to her quickly.

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked hopefully, his gray eyes lighting eagerly.

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "I think I can still be of use here."

"Ah," he said as the light in his eyes died. He turned aside and sighed heavily.

She touched his sleeve hesitantly.

"Did you want something of me, Thorin?" she asked. "You asked to see me."

"Is there no other reason why you might want to stay?" he asked wistfully.

She sat quietly and remembered Balin's words.

Then Thorin breathed deep and took her hands.

"You have always known what I want," he said silently.

His face was somber as he steeled himself for rejection. He knew now that before her he only existed but with her he truly lived, and he forced himself to finish his thought not knowing how he would go on if she refused him.

"I want to join with you and love you as no one else can, so would you stay because I asked you to? Would you stay for me, to be my wife?"

Grace laughed musically and he took offense.

"Are you playing with me?" he asked incredulously, but before he could turn away in despair, Grace put her arms around his neck and kissed him on his cheek.

"Don't toy with me, I beg you," he said moaning helplessly, and he exhaled sharply as she kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

"Yes," she whispered into his ear. Stunned, he pushed her away to look at her face.

"Tell me what you want, Grace," he said seriously. "I need to know I'm not imagining this."

She held out her hands. He quickly kissed each palm and stroked them with his thumbs.

"I want you," she said aloud. "I'm in love with you, Thorin, and my home is here with you."

He stared unmoving at her for a moment and then quickly picked her up in his arms and kissed her hungrily. She threw her arms around his neck and returned his kisses eagerly, and he whispered, "Grace, my heart, you cannot know what this means to me." He captured her mouth again and after savoring the sweetness of her lips, he broke away with a cry and buried his face in her neck.

"I can't believe this day has come!" he said huskily.

He breathed deep of her summer scent and looked tenderly into her eyes. Then he smiled at his own weakness before her. "I can command armies but not myself in her presence," he thought. "I am a king to others but a servant to her."

Then he ran his fingers over her lips.

"Please, my heart, I need you hear you say it again," he said apologetically. "Forgive me but I do."

She smiled widely and cupped his face with her hands. She saw his joy and his fears, and her eyes filled with happy tears as she ran her hands through his hair and kissed his cheek.

"I'm in love with you, Thorin Oakenshield," she said firmly. "I'm in love with you, and you have won my heart forever."

At that, his eyes lit up and he threw back his head and laughed as he twirled her around in his arms.

Then he put her back on the bench and sat beside her. He pulled out two gold beads inlaid with diamonds and carefully attached them above the courting beads. He kissed each braid and then dropped to his knees. He opened a box to show a ring of a hummingbird landing on a flower. The hummingbird was made of emeralds, amethysts, and diamonds with a ruby eye, and the flower was made of sapphires with emerald petals and stem.

"Grace, my heart, will you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?" Thorin asked, his face alight with joy.

"I will, I promise," she said. He sat beside her and lovingly put the ring on her finger.

"It's both of us," he said. "You are the hummingbird and I am the flower. I can't live without you."

She looked at it with amazement.

"It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," she said, "who made it?"

The thick shrubs behind them rustled.

"We did," Balin said as the dwarves stumbled out from behind azalea bushes.

"Quit pushing," Dwalin said as the rest trooped out.

Thorin whirled around.

"How long have you all been here?" he asked indignantly.

"Long enough to see you put the ring on her finger," Balin answered. He turned to Grace. "I'm so happy for you, Gracie. Thorin is a good man. You won't find better, and he loves you true."

Then he looked at Thorin and clapped him on the shoulder.

"And you too, laddie," he said. "You've done right by my girl."

Thorin rolled his eyes at their presence but nothing could dampen his mood for long, and he took Grace's hand firmly in his own. The dwarves looked on in amazement at the transformation in Thorin who stood tall and proud but with a contented smile on his face and a new light in his eyes. While Thorin would never be exuberant like Bofur, it was clear to them that he was finally happy, and they were both relieved and pleased for their comrade and king.

Later that night, the dwarves and their families surprised Thorin and Grace with a dinner in their honor.

"No doubt uncle's worked up an appetite since he was sweating it out all day," Fili said to Kili. They both laughed and looked over at Thorin's smiling face.

"I've never seen him like this before," Ori said. "He looks less frightening."

Dori turned and watched them together.

"Ah yes, lad," he said. "Love will tame even the greatest of warriors, but mark my words, he'll be a terror to reckon with should anything ever happen to her."

Then he turned back to Ori.

"Now have you tried this fine cheese then?" he asked.

Kili bumped Fili and then they asked Grace what she knew about being married. They nudged each other and winked as they waited for her reply.

"Well," she said, "I think I know what happens between a husband and his wife when they're alone together."

Thorin smiled indulgently and asked her what she had heard. He was taking a long drink of ale when she whispered into his ear. Suddenly, he spewed his drink out across the table and looked at her aghast.

"Where in Durin's name did you hear that?" he asked in horror.

The table suddenly fell silent.

"Pearl told me," she said uncertainly.

"And just who is Pearl?" he asked.

Grace looked confusedly at all the curious faces around the table.

"My pony, of course," she said.

For a moment, no one moved. Grace sat taller and set her face and mouth in grim lines.

"I am prepared," she said as she looked straight ahead while everyone stared at her and then turned to see Thorin with his mouth open in shock.

All at once the table erupted in laughter. Dori choked on the fine cheese he was eating while Bofur thumped Bombur on the back to dislodge a sausage in his throat. Ale came out of Nori's nose, and Gloin broke the back of his chair when he fell over.

Thorin raked his hands through his hair.

"I think you've been misinformed," he said to Grace.

She shook her head.

"Pearl was very specific," she said.

The dinner ended shortly thereafter as all except Thorin and Grace were laughing too hard to eat anymore.


	39. Thorin Chases His Heart

**Thank you all so much for reading! I have some faithful reviewers so a shout out to photogirl894 and Juliettebow. Thanks for your continued support and words of encouragement! I'm making some changes to the remaining chapters, but-and this is a shameless plea-I'd like to hear from some of the readers from other countries, especially those whose first language isn't English. I'm curious to know how things are translating. And if anyone else has something to say, feel free to join in! Comments are not only wanted but needed to help me see my writing weaknesses!**

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**Chapter 39: Thorin Chases His Heart**

All the dwarves of Erebor assembled in front of Thorin as he stood before his throne to make an announcement. He stood with one foot forward and his hands clasped behind his back as he waited impatiently. Many in the crowd who knew him from old commented again on how unlike his father he looked. Thrain was a bull of a man with a large waistline; coarse features; and short, wiry hair, and his power came from prodigious physical strength and plenty of bluster. His wife, however, was a rare and elegant beauty with high cheekbones; even, white teeth; full lips; flowing ebony hair; and thick-lashed, crystal gray eyes that could spark with anger or sparkle with affection and amusement. She commanded respect and allegiance through brilliance of mind and immense charisma, and her smile was said to be like a bolt of lightning—never forgotten once it appeared. It was her smile that first struck Thrain dumb and stupid, and she laughed at his fumbling attempts to court her, but his uncharacteristic humility and gentleness with her won her heart and hand.

The men said proudly that Thorin inherited the strength of his father and recalled his legendary battle skills, but the women goggled over his striking features, which were clearly a very masculine version of his mother. Many of the younger women had never seen their king this close before since Thorin kept mostly to himself and his trusted circle of advisors at Ered Luin, and their hearts fluttered at his magnetic looks and regal bearing.

Thorin looked sternly over the crowd, and hushed whispers of older dwarves wondered if war or disaster was in the offing. The people waited anxiously before their somber king until Balin stepped forward onto the platform with Grace who looked stunning in a gold silk gown with a wide v-neckline. She wore her circlet, and her hair was gathered and twisted into a single coil that fell down her back. On seeing her, Thorin's face broke into a boyish grin revealing seldom-seen dimples, and the crowd immediately roared with excitement. Grace turned to flash a dazzling smile of her own before Balin led her to Thorin who took her hand, bowed gracefully over it, and kissed it. Then he raised his hands and crowd stilled instantly.

"It is my great honor to announce to you all that Lady Grace has promised to be my wife," he said proudly in deep, ringing tones.

The shouts and noise from the huge crowd prevented him from saying anything else and Grace elegantly curtsied to the people, blew a kiss, and then with a sly grin surprised Thorin by throwing herself into his arms and kissing him on the mouth. The crowd roared and hooted its approval despite the breach of royal protocol, and Thorin lifted her off the ground and kissed her soundly. The men stamped their feet and cat-called while the women squealed and stared in wonder at their solemn king acting the impassioned lover. When he finally put her down he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.

"You minx!" he said teasingly into her ear. "How will I ever maintain my royal dignity now?"

Grace looked at him coyly as she squeezed his hand.

"But now you will be even more appealing since the women have seen how very handsome you are when you smile," she said as she looked out into the crowd. "In fact, I think a few have swooned."

Thorin shook his head chuckling.

"No, those were some of the men," he said, and he kissed her hand again before he turned to the crowd.

"I could not be prouder of you all for how you have welcomed, Lady Grace," he said smiling, "and now I call upon you to assist and protect her as your future Queen Under the Mountain."

Then he dismissed the crowd. The men walked away with a new spring in their stride while the women gossiped over their handsome king and his changed demeanor.

In the days after the announcement work continued throughout the fortress as all remnants of Smaug's presence were erased. The bottom level where the great dragon lived was finally cleaned and repaired, and the treasure resorted and moved into the vaults. Thorin walked contentedly through Erebor as he reflected that all his hopes and dreams were answered.

"She will be my wife, and we will live here for the rest of our lives," he thought with great satisfaction. "I can love her openly now, and no one will ever come between us again."

As he walked toward the front gate he saw some women struggling to carry sacks of grain and vegetables destined for the kitchens. An older woman struggled with her load and Grace walked up to her, spoke a few words, and shouldered her burden with a smile. Thorin was too far away to hear her as the older woman shook her head vehemently and reached to take the sack from her, but Grace put out her hand and kissed her on the cheek. Thorin burned with anger as he watched Grace balance the heavy sack on her back, and he strode toward them with a scowl on his face. But as he neared them, Grace looked up and smiled so happily that his breath caught and he could not help smiling in return.

"Where are the porters, ladies?" he asked as his anger ebbed away. The women blanched at being addressed directly by him and looked down at their feet.

"They're stabling the horses, Thorin," Grace answered cheerfully. "The women wanted to get started on the evening meal, so they didn't wait."

He gazed at Grace adoringly and the women inwardly sighed. Then he saw that two other women were struggling with their sacks.

"Allow me," he said as he took the heavy bags from them. The women gawked at his strength as he easily slung the bags over his shoulder and scooped the locks of his hair around his neck.

"My lord!" the women cried, but he waved their concerns away.

"Lead on!" he said smiling, and the dwarves were treated to the unheard-of sight of their king and future queen carrying groceries to the kitchens. When they put down their bags, Thorin kissed the women's hands and complimented them on their dedication. They blushed at his charm and deep, velvety voice, and they stared down at their hands and giggled as Thorin and Grace left.

"They may never wash their hands again," she teased as they walked out into the hall. "Half of Erebor—the female half anyway—will be in love with you if you keep this up."

"I don't care," he said as he took her in his arms. "I see no one but you. I only care that you are in love with me."

"And I am," she said smiling.

The next day he had completed his morning meetings and decided to find Grace when those in charge of the mines asked to speak to him. As he walked down to the lower levels, he smiled at his notion to spend a few precious moments with her.

Meanwhile, Grace had just left the stone cutting rooms and was humming happily to herself when she came upon Dwalin, Balin, and Gloin talking in hushed voices.

"Did you read the letter, Balin? Did you Dwalin?" Gloin asked seriously, his face as red as his hair.

Dwalin grunted with disgust and Balin sighed heavily.

"Aye, that I did and I wished I hadn't," he said shaking his head. "Of course, it's out of the question now. Thorin's honor, as well as his heart, is at stake. He'd never go back on his word to her no matter what the cost."

"But will this mean a rift in the clans now that Dain knows Thorin has chosen an outsider?" Gloin asked, "Will it mean war?"

"Aye, maybe," Dwalin said, "but he won't give in. Not to threats like this. Dain's a fool if he thinks he can force Thorin's hand."

Balin shrugged his shoulders.

"Dain has always wanted Thorin to marry his daughter, so he considers this a terrible insult," he said, "and we do need his support badly, but now…."

"Now what?" Grace asked. Balin and Gloin jumped. Dwalin turned slowly to face her.

"Give me the letter," she said.

They handed it over reluctantly and as she read her eyes grew round.

"Now don't think on it, Gracie, or do anything rash," Balin encouraged. "Thorin hasn't seen this, and it's of no matter now anyhow."

"Family comes first," she said, "and I'm not family yet. Does Dain mean what he says?"

Balin and Gloin eyed each other. Dwalin looked down and said nothing.

"I see," she said as she looked at them all.

She put her hands on her hips, thought for a moment, and then looked at them sadly, and took off her ring. She balanced it in her hand as she considered what to do.

"No lass," Balin said with alarm, and he put his hand on her arm, "you'll break his heart for sure. It's his decision anyway."

"My lady," Dwalin said. "Let Thorin handle this."

Grace closed her eyes.

"I still remember the cries and screams of the people when I drew Faldor to you all," she said sadly. "It broke my heart to see what I had caused. If my leaving will prevent a war, then I must go. I will not allow another fight over me."

Then she looked each of them in the eye.

"Say nothing of this to Thorin until I am far away," she said. "He's fought for too many years to build his kingdom for me to stand in the way. He will understand why I can't stay."

Gloin nodded unhappily, but Balin shook his head, and Dwalin swore under his breath.

"Gracie, I beg of you," Balin pleaded, "don't do this. We'll figure out something. Thorin will know what to do."

Grace shook her head.

"This is best for everyone," she said. "Tell him that I will be well and that I do this because I love him, because I love you all."

Then she handed Balin the ring and left wiping tears from her cheeks. Dwalin shook his head grimly.

"She still doesn't understand him," he said gruffly. "He'll never accept this, and he'll hunt her down no matter the cost."

Dwalin looked over at Balin and Gloin.

"So we need to find him now," he said, and they scattered.

After sending word throughout Erebor, Balin finally found him in discussion with some of the leaders of the mines.

"Your plan is a sound one, Dwelf," Thorin said. "I commend you for your diligence in these matters."

He put his hand on the dwarf's shoulder and nodded his head. Then he turned to Balin.

"Balin," he said smiling, "you should hear some of Dwelf's plans to improve the mines."

Balin held out the letter. Thorin read it quickly and his face darkened.

"I will not be blackmailed into an alliance I never wanted or threatened for my choices," he said. He shook his head in frustration. "And even if I was willing, all that would have changed the moment I laid eyes on Grace," he added proudly.

Balin's shoulders slumped, and Thorin put his hands on his arms.

"What's happened?" he asked with concern. "Who else knows about this?

Balin looked at him with tears in his eyes.

"Grace does," he said as he held up the ring, "and she left."

Thorin's eyes widened, and he turned to go after her when Balin grabbed his arm.

"She blames herself for Faldor and Dain, Thorin," he said, "Make sure you tell her different."

Thorin nodded shortly and ran to the stables. He saw that Pearl was gone, and he saddled Steel and headed out onto the road. Steel cantered out and pulled sharply toward the woodland road.

Far ahead, almost beyond sight, he spied a horse and rider galloping away. A brief flash of gold revealed her. Slowly, he began to close the distance.

"Grace!" he shouted, but she only spurred Pearl faster.

"I will not lose her," he swore, "not now. I will make her understand even if it costs me my kingdom."

Finally, he pulled even and grabbed the reins.

"Whoa," he shouted, and both ponies came to a stop.

He dismounted quickly and pulled her to the ground as she tried to spur Pearl forward. He took her in his arms without a word. She twisted and tried to push him off, but he held her fast and tipped up her chin.

Breathing heavily he said, "Either you come with me or we are leaving together, and I will never look back."

She looked into his eyes and shook her head.

"But your people, Thorin," she said. "You can't do that."

He put his hands on the back of her neck and kissed her mouth hard. Her head fell back and he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat and felt her pulse pounding against his mouth.

"My heart, my heart," he whispered huskily, "you cannot not leave me." He gathered her in his arms and held her tight. "I am destroyed without you."

Grace started to cry.

"I will not be the cause of war," she said, "I cannot! You know why!" She pushed herself apart and stood away from him.

Thorin put his hands on his hips.

"I am your king," he began to say, but she cut him off.

"Not yet, you're not," she said clearly, "and I'm free to go if I choose."

"Not as your king then but as your lover," he appealed desperately as he held his hands out to her.

Grace hugged herself and turned away.

"I won't put you and your people in danger again. I release you from your promise," she said over her shoulder. "Go so that you and your people may have peace."

Thorin shut his eyes tight and took a slow, deep breath.

"I do _not_ release you from yours," he said fiercely. "I will _never_ release you from yours! There is no peace without you, no peace of mind and no peace of heart."

She did not turn around.

"Even if you didn't come back with me, I still wouldn't oblige Dain," he said harshly. "You are not the cause of this nor do you play any part in it. My answer would be the same if I never knew you."

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You're not responsible for the decisions of others," he said softly, "not Faldor's and not Dain's, and you are not at fault for what they did. You must learn to trust me, Grace. Remember, we are to be joined and you must start thinking that way, to think and act as one. You should have come to me first, my heart."

She said nothing and held herself rigid. He placed light kisses on her cheek and neck and sighed deeply.

"I have no desire to rule unless you are by my side," he continued. "I will go into the hills and find work if you wish, and I would never regret it. My people are home now, and Balin will help Fili rule well in my stead. If you must leave, then I go with you."

She felt his breath on her neck, and she softened against him.

"I was afraid that I would break what you had fought so hard to build," she said as her voice choked. "I was afraid that I would only bring pain to your people and that you would regret me as the years passed."

Thorin turned her to face him.

"You must understand, my heart, that you will break nothing by staying, but you will break me by leaving," he replied as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs.

Grace stood there searching his anguished eyes. Finally, she hugged him around the waist and he exhaled in relief.

"You must understand," he said as he held her tightly, realizing how close he came to losing her forever. "Even though we are not yet joined, you have been part of me since first I loved you. I know that you did what you felt was best, but _you_ are what is best for me and my people, and I will _never_ agree to give you up, nor will I let let anyone take you from me. _Never!_"

He held her as he slowed his breathing and quieted his heart. She reached up, touched his face and gasped as she felt his devastation. She quickly pushed herself out of his arms and backed away in horror.

"What is it?" he asked fearfully.

"Oh! I have failed you again!" she said miserably. "What pain I have brought you instead of saving you from it! Forgive me, Thorin, I'm so sorry."

She covered her face with her hands and started to sob. Then she felt his arms around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder and cried.

"We both have much to learn, my heart," he said soothingly. "I have never loved another and I never will again. I would not change who you are, although I admit that I sometimes wish that you were more selfish."

He gently lifted her head off of his shoulder and smiled into her eyes.

"But there is also much joy to be had in learning together," he said. "I understand that is what all couples must do, so we are not so very different from anyone else."

She sniffled softly and wiped her eyes.

"I love you so very much, Thorin," she said. "I was so sad to ride away and think I would never see you again. I felt like all my world was losing color and turning gray."

His eyes gleamed suddenly at her admission of love and need.

"She doesn't often speak to me of her feelings," he thought, and he eagerly took her hands.

"I'm selfish to be asking this, my heart," he thought to her, "but what do you feel for me truly?"

She looked at him in surprise.

"Don't you know?" she replied. "I said yes to your proposal. Doesn't that mean I love you and want to be with you? Didn't I say that I am in love with you?"

Thorin acknowledged the truth of her words but was unsatisfied.

"Yes, but I've loved you for so long without certainty of return," he thought to her, "and I nearly lost you not long ago. Forgive me, but I need the reassurance."

Grace smiled and put her hand on his face. He closed his eyes and felt her soothing compassion at first, but then it changed to soft affection and tender love. He saw her delight at being with him, and her growing desire to be close to him and learn more about him. He also saw her terrible fear when she thought him in danger and how she now did not see her life without him.

"She was as devastated as I was when she left," he thought with satisfaction.

Grace looked puzzled.

"You enjoy knowing that?" she thought.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I am relieved that you feel about me as I do about you," he said silently. "All lovers want to know that their love is returned and that it's love and not some lesser version such as gratitude or pity."

Grace pursed her lips.

"In that case, close your eyes," she commanded. When she was sure his eyes were closed she reached up and kissed him tenderly on the mouth and into that kiss she poured all the love she felt for him. In his wild fear of losing her he was not careful to guard his mind and both his mind and body immediately blazed with desire, and she broke off the kiss in bewilderment.

"What was that?" she asked. He swayed on his feet for a moment and she steadied him. "This happened when you first kissed me on my face. What is that emotion? I don't fully understand that one, although I too feel a need to be close to you."

He took a moment to catch his breath.

"That is something that you will understand when we are joined," he said still breathing hard.

Grace looked at him in confusion.

"Then how do you know so much about it already?" she asked. Steel neighed loudly and Pearl nickered at them.

"Ah," she said. "Is that so?"

Thorin shook his head to clear his mind and looked at the ponies with chagrin.

"Grace, I ask you please to not heed their counsel on these matters," he said. "I will explain later, but we must leave."

Grace agreed and then frowned.

"But, Thorin," she said, "I don't know how to be a wife. What do I do?"

Thorin took her hands.

"My people will help you with anything you need," he said, "but promise me that you will come to me with anything that burdens your heart. Whatever comes we will handle it together."

She hugged him tightly and nodded, and he kissed the top of her head.

"Let's go home," he said, "yours and mine." He mounted Steel with her in his arms and put her in front of him. Pearl followed obediently.

Once back at Erebor, Thorin found Balin.

"Send word to Dain to meet me here," he said. "I will show him why I am refusing his offer."

* * *

**I wrote an alternate scene where Thorin and Grace's big to-do takes place after Grace rides to Dale and asks Bard for help to hide her from Thorin until she can get away, and I went back and forth over which one made the most sense, but if anyone wants to read it, I can post it as a separate article. Cheers!**


	40. Wedding Guests and Gifts

**Chapter 40: Wedding Guests and Gifts**

A week later a contingent of dwarves from the Iron Hills rode to Erebor.

"To be master of this is to truly rule," Dain thought as he rode up through the massive entrance. "Thorin must see reason."

They met in Thorin's council chambers, and Dain outlined his offer.

"And this will unite our peoples in a way not seen since out of remembering," he said proudly.

Thorin nodded his head seriously as he stood appraising the fierce warrior before him who was covered in tattoos. Thorin well knew that Dain also wanted a home for his daughter who was left motherless at an early age and while he felt sympathy, he would not be moved.

"I see your arguments," he said, "and I mean no disrespect to your daughter. She is a fine young woman, but you know that I have made a different choice, and my decision is final." Dain spluttered in outrage, but Thorin held up his hand.

"I respect you, Dain," Thorin said, "and so I have asked you here so that you may understand my reasons. In fact, I only have one, and I think that once you see you will understand why I have to follow my heart."

Then Thorin turned to Balin and quietly asked him to show in Grace. The door opened and Dain turned in anger only to be struck silent at the sight before him.

Grace wore a lilac gown with a high open collar lined with cloudlike lace. Her hair was plaited and curled into a high twist that complemented her long neck. She wore a delicate gold and amethyst pendant, and an embroidered sash tied in front of her slim waist. The long skirt fell in smooth folds about her hips.

She looked at Dain and curtsied elegantly.

"I am most honored to meet you," she said, and Dain felt a tingle up his spine. Then she turned to Thorin and smiled. Her joy at seeing him lit up the dark room, and Dain felt her love for Thorin radiating from her like the rays of the sun on melting ice. Thorin walked over to her and kissed her hand and palm and she giggled. Her laughter made Dain weak in the knees, and he put one hand on the granite council table for support.

"Harrumph," Dain said as he struggled to speak. He coughed for a full minute and then looked at Thorin.

"Aye, Thorin," he said finally. "I see your reason for denying my offer, and I have to say that you've given me the only reason I can respect. In fact, I'd say that reason has nothing to do with it."

Thorin inclined his head and smiled.

Dain approached Grace and bowed. She presented her hand and as he took it he felt a spark of energy throughout his body and felt like the lusty youth he once was. He opened his eyes wide as he stared at her wordless. She curtsied again, and then Balin escorted her out.

"Will we all be invited to the wedding?" he asked as he shook his head to clear the fog. Thorin rubbed the furrow in his brow and then shook his head.

"I don't think so, Dain," Thorin said seriously. "Not everyone has your self-control," he added with a smile.

Dain laughed and slapped his thigh.

"You're right on that point," he said. Then he looked at Thorin curiously.

"And how's your self-control, cousin?" he asked. "I have no doubt of your honor, but she must sorely tempt your patience."

Thorin huffed with exasperation.

"She does indeed, Dain," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I've had many sleepless nights."

"Aye, Thorin," he said laughing, "and no doubt you'll have many more after you're wed. A dwarf would go to war to win her or give up his kingdom to keep her. I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but you'd be a fool indeed if you made any other choice."

"I agree," Thorin said, "and so I hope you understand why we're going to keep the wedding quiet and also why I'm asking you now to keep her presence here a secret."

He put his hand on Dain's shoulder.

"Both men and elves have wanted her, Dain," he said, "yet her love was won by the dwarves. Think on that, and when I am crowned king we will all stand taller when they see her with me. She is what is best for all of our people."

* * *

Preparations for the wedding and coronation of Thorin as king were well in hand when Balin found him pacing in his newly cleaned and repaired chambers. The black granite walls were polished to a high luster, and the huge black columns reflected the torchlight. The king's private chambers were massive and imposing and Thorin once thought them fitting, but now he found them dark, oppressive, and lifeless.

"You sent for me, Thorin?" Balin asked. "Is anything amiss?"

Thorin stopped pacing for a moment, and looked around the cavernous rooms.

"Balin," he said with a frown, "she won't be happy here. She can't live without sunlight and living things. Her favorite place is up in the battlements out in the air. I will be bringing her into a tomb as she had said."

Balin stroked his long beard.

"Well now, it may be that she'll just get accustomed to our ways," he said.

"No," Thorin said. "She'll make due and never complain, but that's not the same as being happy."

Thorin stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and then he sat down at a stone table and wrote out a letter. He called for a courier and quietly gave him detailed instructions. Next he called for the masters of the forges and quarries and gave them new instructions. Balin watched the flurry of activity with curiosity, but Thorin did not say a word until the matter was completed. Then he stood and stroked his beard with satisfaction.

"What are you doing?" Balin asked.

Thorin smiled.

"Arranging for Grace's wedding present," he said.

Several weeks later a host of tall cloaked figures arrived with strings of pack horses laden with materials. Thorin moved them into a sectioned-off portion of the forges and ordered that the workshops be vacated for the time being. Dwarves gathered at the entrances and wondered at the bursts of activity, but guards prevented anyone from seeing the work or the workers.

Soon the workers and covered pieces of a large structure moved to Thorin's chambers. The sounds of welding, drilling, and blasting resounded throughout Erebor. Clouds of dust covered the floors with fine grit, and the front gate was opened for a time to let fresh air in.

Finally, a cloaked figure requested to see Thorin, and they both walked into his chambers. Satisfied, Thorin shook hands with the figure, and in the middle of the night, the entire workforce left quietly.

Thorin's company came to see him the next morning.

"We promise we won't say a word," Bofur said, as he tried to peek around Thorin. "We'd never tell, would we lads?"

Gloin nodded.

"We can keep a secret now," he said, "in fact; I've kept Oin's secret for years now that his hearing isn't as bad as he lets on. He only pretends to be deaf so as he doesn't have to pay attention if he doesn't want to."

Thorin smiled and shook his head.

"Balin, if you want to come in and see," he said, "I will let you tell them a little about it but no more."

Balin went in and marveled at what he saw. Then he went out and said, "Nothing to it, lads, just a couple of windows."

"Is that all?" Nori asked with disappointment. "All that bother for a couple of windows?" Then they all turned and left for better gossip.

Balin looked back at Thorin and winked.

"She'll love it, laddie," he said.

Two days before the wedding, Thorin called Grace to him.

"I want to show you where we will live," he said softly. He took her by the hand and led her to his chambers.

"These are the chambers of the king and queen," he said, "and it has been so since Erebor was founded. I hope you like them."

He opened the carved wooden door, so constructed that it swung easily on mithril hinges.

Grace walked into the stone rooms, her face alight with curiosity. She felt the smoothness of the black stone walls and polish of the black columns and furniture. As she ventured deeper, she began to feel a chill, and her initial curiosity was replaced by feelings of oppression. She turned to Thorin and tried to smile.

"These rooms are indeed fit for the king of the dwarves," she said, "and I am honored to share them with you." Her eyes did not quite meet his.

Thorin looked at her and saw what he expected.

"But you cannot live here," he said simply.

She met his eyes and shook her head.

"I will gladly live wherever you want," she said with effort. "Being with you is what is most important."

Thorin hugged her close and kissed her forehead.

"I know that you will always strive to find the good," he said, "but this time I will give it to you." He put his hands over her eyes and guided her forward. The he took his hands away.

"Oh!" Grace cried as she stepped into a large room filled with light and plants of various kinds. The outside wall was blasted away and a huge cantilevered glass solarium stood in its place.

"How?" she started. "How did you? Who did this?" She stopped and then wandered around the room touching the flowers and small trees that were rooted in deep plots of earth. Then she ran back to Thorin and threw her arms around him and kissed him.

"I wanted our chambers to be your favorite place in Erebor," he said when he could speak. He motioned to a small card. She picked it up and saw the elvish design. Smiling, she read the note of congratulations from Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel and that the solarium was a gift from Rivendell and the Mirkwood elves.

"We are outside the mountain here," Thorin said smiling, "so you can look in every direction, but we are also secure because this design has been fortified to be as strong as the rock and invisible from the outside." Then he took her hand.

"That's not all I wanted to show you," he said. Grace turned to him in amazement.

"There's more?" she asked.

He led her to an adjacent room where she saw an imposing bedstead, dressing area, mirror, table and chairs, but instead of stone, the furniture was made of wood and vines curled around the four-poster frame. A jeweled hairbrush and comb set with the flower and hummingbird emblem lay on the dressing table, and the bed was made up with the soft linen sheets and green and lilac down comforters. The outside wall again was blasted away and replaced by thick transparent glass. Green silk curtains hung above and could be let down for privacy. The stone walls and ceiling were lined with light wood paneling, and numerous candles gave the room a homey glow. A bathroom beyond had a glass-covered skylight, and the bath tub was a small pond lined with rocks and surrounded by real moss.

"This is my private present to you," he said.

Grace took in all that he had done to make her feel at home, and she started to cry.

"Grace, my heart, what is wrong?" Thorin asked in distress. "Are you not pleased? Anything can be changed if you wish."

She turned and hugged him.

"I am overwhelmed by your love, Thorin," she said. "I am so grateful that it is you I am to spend my life with. I am so very grateful," and she hugged him again. Then she went to the bed.

"So this is where I will sleep?" she asked curiously. She climbed up on the bed and rolled around. "It's very comfortable. Where are you going to sleep?"

Thorin opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to broach the topic.

"My heart, I know that is the way of things for many in our position," he said finally, "but sleeping apart is not what I wish. I never want to leave your side once we are joined, and I wish for us to sleep together in one room. I want that to be our bed."

He watched her face carefully as she considered what he said.

"Is the bed big enough for both of us, Thorin?" she asked. "Come here so we can see."

Thorin slowly walked toward the bed and sat on the edge. Grace tugged him onto the bed and then rolled back on her side. She put her hand on the side of her head as her hair hung over one shoulder, and her leg moved forward to exaggerate the curve of her hip.

"Yes," she said, "it seems big enough I think. What do people wear to bed when they sleep together?"

Thorin coughed as the temperature of the room suddenly became unbearably hot, and he quickly suggested that they explore the other rooms. They walked through his library, her receiving room, and the corridor that led to a small council chamber.

"Is there a place where I can practice stone cutting?" she asked. "I have much to learn."

Thorin looked at her with surprise.

"Why would you need to know such a thing?" he asked. "As queen you would not be undertaking such duties."

Grace tilted her head.

"But as queen, I want to know my people," she said, "and that includes knowing what they do. I have been exploring and meeting people from all over Erebor to find out what they do and try it myself. Only then will I understand their concerns."

Thorin stared at her and thought, "No wonder she has won them over. No one has ever loved them more."

"In fact," she said shyly, "I have a present for you as well. It does not equal the work of your people, Thorin, but I hope you like it." She handed him a small box of rock crystal that she pulled from her leather pouch.

"Did you cut this yourself?" he asked in disbelief. She nodded as he turned the box over. The edges and planes were perfect, and the box and its hinges were all of one piece. "One piece of crystal made this," he thought with great admiration.

"I am most impressed, Grace," he said lovingly. "Truly, you are one of us." He moved to kiss her but she shook her head.

"That's just the box, Thorin," she said, "the gift is inside."

Surprised, he opened the box and found a small silk bundle and unwrapping it he lifted up a large medallion of gold on a heavy gold chain. On the front was the majestic entrance to Erebor in a pavé mosaic of tiny diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and rubies. On the back was an etched portrait of him standing his with arms around her as they smiled at each other. Flowing script around the edge read "Home at Last."

Thorin looked at her quickly and then looked down as tears welled in his eyes. He struggled to talk but just shook his head. Finally, he simply put his arms around her as the tears started to fall.

"Erebor would not be my home without you," he said brokenly, "you have made it home, Grace. Wherever you are is home." They held each other tightly, and she wiped his tears away and gently kissed him.

"We had both lost our homes, my love," she said, "but we found them again with each other."


	41. Intimate Understandings

**Here is your engraved invitation to the wedding! It gets a little steamy this chapter, so I guess the rating should go up to a T. I don't do smut, but I think that passion between a husband and his bride is to be expected, so this chapter and the next are a little more, um, physical. If you all think it's too much I will tone it down and resubmit. Please review. I'd love to hear from some of my silent readers! Your opinions matter!**

* * *

**Chapter 41: Intimate Understandings**

The night before the wedding Balin came in talk to Thorin and make sure that all was in order.

"I assume that there is nothing you need to know, laddie," he said with a wink and a grin.

"Of course not," Thorin said confidently. Then his shoulders fell and he sat down on the stone bench next to Balin.

Thorin turned to him with apprehension in his eyes.

"What if," he asked hesitantly, "what if I don't _please_ her?"

Balin looked at him with surprise.

"What is there to know that you don't already?" he asked astonished. "You've certainly had enough practice."

Thorin looked at him steadily.

"Well, surely, you've been in the forge with…?" Balin gestured.

Thorin put his head down.

"Well then, you must have been in the mines with…?" he asked opening his hands.

Thorin shook his head.

"Ha," said Balin, clapping him on the back, "of course you've been with Smelia in the kitchens. She's taught a generation of young bucks, and she's always had an eye for you…."

Balin trailed off as Thorin slowly shook his head again.

Abruptly he stood, rubbed the furrow in his forehead, and turned to Balin.

"After all these years, do you still not know me?" he asked in despair. "I could never give my body without my heart."

Balin sat there with his eyes and mouth opened wide.

"Well then," he spluttered, "erm, when a dwarf and his woman come together…"

Thorin turned in frustration.

"I know what to do!" he snapped and then he calmed himself. "I just to need to know that I can make her happy," he said in a low voice. "She is innocent; she knows almost nothing. What if she is disgusted by me?"

Balin smiled. "Do you love her?" he asked.

"With all that I am," Thorin declared passionately.

Balin nodded.

"Does she love you?" he asked.

Thorin nodded slowly. Then Balin got up to leave.

"Well, laddie," he said, "that's all you need."

Then he stopped at the door.

"Besides," he said with a cheeky grin, "just about anything has to be better than what that pony told her."

The next morning all Erebor was bustling with last-minute details. Only those inside the fortress kingdom were invited to the ceremony. Balin had argued for members of the other dwarf clans and the returning citizens of Dale to be invited, but Thorin decided that he would prefer to share what was most important to him with those who were loyal. He said that it would seal the reunion of his people.

Balin looked at him askance. "Are you certain that this isn't just your jealousy talking?" he asked shrewdly.

"Perhaps," Thorin admitted. "Too many have vied for her, and others have tried violence to claim her. I won't rest easy until all my people and then everyone else know she's mine, but for once, Balin, I want her all to myself, and I don't want her attentions divided by the presence of other men who love her."

Balin pursed his lips.

"It's too bad that she'll have none of her own people at her side," he said. "A lass deserves to have her own family round on such an occasion." Then he remembered the images and shuddered.

"More likely that they would come and put a stop to it," Thorin said darkly.

The door opened to admit attendants with Thorin's wedding garments.

"I wonder what she'll be wearing," he thought, "and if I'll be able to stand."

All of Erebor gathered in excitement as the moment came. Thorin stood tall in the Great Hall on a dais banked with flowers. He wore a blue embroidered shirt with a high collar, blue embroidered breeches, and a sleeveless black leather overcoat trimmed with sable. His belt was silver, and his leather boots were capped with silver toes. He wore Grace's medallion around his neck, and he fingered it frequently while he waited for her. He was flanked by his nephews, Fili and Kili, who were scrubbed and polished and trying hard not to fidget.

Suddenly music from harps, flutes, and viols resounded throughout the hall, and Grace appeared carrying a bouquet of white lilies on the arm of a proudly beaming Balin. Thorin's heart pounded as he gazed hungrily upon her. Her curling hair was twisted and piled high on her head above a sapphire headband resembling the flower on her ring, and the length of her hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall. Delicate coils fell in front of her ears and along her neck. Her form-fitting blue dress fanned out into a long pleated train at her hips, and its design left one shoulder and both arms bare. Fili and Kili stared open-mouthed while Thorin swallowed hard.

Dwarf men nodded and smiled, triumphant that it was Thorin who had won her heart, and the dwarf woman gave up any hopes of having Thorin for themselves when they saw how contented he was.

"He was always a handsome one, make no mistake, the most handsome among our men," said a cook to her friend the baker, "but he looked like an angry bear on most days, always a scowl, never a smile."

"But look at him now," the baker replied. "I had hoped for my girl at one time, but she'd never make him smile like Lady Grace has, poor dear."

Then the cook giggled.

"Do you remember how Smelia used to hike up her skirts whenever he walked by," she said, "and how she'd lean over the table when she put down the meat?"

The baker laughed into her colorful scarf.

"She'd have taken him anytime or anywhere," she said, "but she may have well been made of stone for all he noticed."

"Well," said the cook as she looked fondly at Thorin, "thank Durin he has noticed someone at last."

"Aye," said one of the guardsmen to his comrades, "think on it laddies. The most beautiful jewel in Middle-earth wants to be with the likes of us. Makes you proud to be a dwarf, don't it?"

The others nodded.

"Especially since Thranduil can stick his nose in it now," said another, "and Lady Grace has been ever so kind. Thorin has got himself a real beauty inside and out. It's a proud day for Erebor."

Balin walked her to the bottom of the stairs, and Thorin eagerly came down to take her hand. He carefully led her up to the dais and stood her before him. The music continued as Oin, Bofur, and the others cheerfully played on in their enthusiasm. Thorin and Grace waited until Thorin's foot started tapping, and finally he turned and scowled at them. The music suddenly ended with a flourish. Then Thorin turned to the assembly.

"I do not need to introduce the Lady Grace to you because you know her well," he said. "She has met you all and come to your work places to see how you fare and what she can do to improve your lives. No one is more fit to be your queen.…" All of Erebor erupted in cheers and shouts for her, and the noise went on until Thorin smiled at Grace and put up his hand to still the crowd.

"It is my honor that she has consented to be my wife and queen," Thorin said and as he looked at Grace's beautiful smile, his voice broke and he had to clear his throat, "and I am the most blessed man alive."

Then he turned to her, took her hands in his, and kissed them.

"I, Thorin, son of Thrain, swear by my kingdom and all I hold sacred that I will honor and cherish you all my days and that I will be faithful to you only," he said seriously in his rich voice as he looked deeply into her eyes. "You have my sword and all I possess, and I will worship you with my body as I love you with all of my heart no matter what comes until death."

Soft sniffles could be heard as the women pulled out their handkerchiefs and wiped their eyes and noses.

Grace smiled lovingly at Thorin and said "I, Grace…" she faltered for a moment and put her hand to her temple. Thorin looked at her questioningly, but she shook her head and smiled widely.

"I, Grace, Grace Saraya do swear that I will love and honor you all of my days and that I will be faithful to you only," she said. "I give you myself and all that I possess, and I will love you with my body as I love you with all of my heart no matter what comes until death."

The dwarf men nudged each other and winked as they all spent a glorious moment considering what it would be like to be in Thorin's place.

Fili and Kili each brought them a goblet of wine.

"With this drink we commit to each other our lives for all of our days," Thorin said, "as husband and wife."

They wrapped their arms around each other and drank from each other's goblet—Grace the merest taste of wine on her tongue and Thorin the entire contents in one gulp. Fili and Kili then took the goblets away, and Thorin quickly kissed her on the lips and picked her up and spun her around to the cheering of the crowd.

A reception took place in the Hall of Audiences where rows of tables had been set up for the largest Erebor could remember. Thorin longed to avoid the festivities altogether and whisk Grace away to their chambers, but he knew that his people were waiting and that they deserved this chance to celebrate. Grace guessed his impatient thoughts and smiled to herself as they walked arm in arm to the doors. Suddenly, she pulled Thorin into an alcove.

"What are you doing?" he asked with surprise.

Grace put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Instantly, he backed her up against the wall and pressed his body against hers.

"We don't need watching anymore, Thorin," she whispered into his ear.

He groaned as he kissed her lips, her neck, and her exposed shoulder.

"I don't want to go in," he said panting against her neck. "I just want to be alone with you. That's all I want."

The doors opened a crack, and Balin peeked out his head.

"Coming in, you two?" he asked with a knowing grin.

Thorin looked up in exasperation.

"Is this ever going to end?" he growled.

Grace giggled and tugged her frustrated husband through the doors to the cheers of all.

Everyone was welcome to give their best wishes to Thorin and Grace at the table where they sat—she at one end and he far at the other. Dwarves flocked to talk to her while Thorin grumpily held court at his end. He kept trying to catch her eye, but every time she turned to seek him out her attention was taken by more well-wishers. Finally, he stood up, strode to her end of the table, took her hand, and led her back to his side to the laughter of all.

"I didn't just marry you to have us separated," he said, "and since we have to be here I want to ask you about what happened. Who is Saraya?"

"Saraya is my real name, Thorin," she said excitedly. "I just then remembered it."

"Do you remember anything else?" he asked apprehensively.

"No," she said happily, "but I am certain I will soon." Then she turned to acknowledge more good wishes.

Thorin kissed her hand and smiled but inwardly he felt a chill.

After the banquet was over, and dwarves were snoring contentedly in every crevice of Erebor, Thorin paced outside his bedroom for what seemed to him like hours. Finally, Grace bade him enter. He took a deep breath as he put his hand on the latch, opened the door, and stepped inside. Turning quickly, he bolted the door with a satisfied nod. Various candles gave the room an intimate glow. Grace sat with her back to him at the dressing table. Her long hair was freed of its elaborate wedding arrangement and fell in curling waves over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a white, silk robe with ermine trim. She smiled at him in the mirror and stood up, keeping her back to him.

As he watched with rapt fascination, she slowly lowered the robe from her shoulders and let it slide down her silky skin below the small of her back while she loosely held the front to her. He swallowed hard and grabbed the bed post for support. The only sound in the room was his ragged breathing. She scooped her golden hair off her back and over one shoulder. Thorin groaned as he looked down the sleek length of her. Then she turned slowly and put one perfect leg outside the opening of her robe. A thin diamond necklace dangled a diamond teardrop tantalizingly close to her generous curves. She lifted her chin and looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

"Do you want what you see my king?" she asked in challenge.

"How?" he asked huskily as his mouth suddenly went dry. Grace looked knowingly and carefully let the robe peek open.

"I had a wee chat with Smelia in the kitchens," she said smiling.

Thorin's eyes flared. In one stride and without a word, he crossed the room, picked her up in his eager arms, and took her to their bed.


	42. Contentment and Coronations

**Warning: this scene depicts passion and enduring love and is not for the faint of heart, so I suppose it should be a T+, but I hope you will find it tastefully done. Those inclined to romance may swoon, but I have a wonderful husband, and some of what you will read are actual words and situations that my husband has allowed me to share. Would that all woman had such a wonderful man! And except for the long hair, he looks an awful lot like Thorin. Sigh ... I may swoon!**

* * *

**Chapter 42: Contentment and Coronations**

Late the next morning, he awoke and looked down at her sleeping. Her golden hair cascaded across his chest like a net flung out into the water. He ran his hand down the length of her trim body as she lay curled up against him.

"She has truly captured me," he thought satisfied. "With a look of her eyes I am hers to command."

He thought back contentedly to the night before when he was finally able to give her all of his love.

* * *

"Mahal, help me," he had said as he stared overwhelmed at her loveliness. "You are even more beautiful than I had dreamed." In the candlelight her natural golden glow deepened, and her skin looked to him like burnished gold and her eyes like the rarest amethysts. His hands trembled as he began to caress and stroke her silky skin.

"You must, you must tell me what pleases you," he whispered, "and what does not. I would not have you endure my desire." She smiled and reached for him and his lips crashed upon hers. As he deepened the kiss, he began exploring her with his hands, and she gasped with pleasure and dug her fingers into his muscled shoulders. He saw her bite her lower lip, her eyes huge and black with desire, and he was certain they reflected his own. Lowering his head, he trailed his mouth past her neck and placed hot kisses on her skin, which tasted like sweet honeysuckle.

"I cannot get enough of you," he murmured as his eyes and mouth devoured her. Grace tangled her fists in his hair and pulled him down. Her eyes were closed and her mouth soft and open. Then she moaned and he was undone.

"I need, I want you so badly," he said urgently, "that I don't think I can hold back … any longer…."

She answered him by arching her back and pulling him closer.

"Make me yours," she said breathing heavily. He cried out incoherently at her words, and they joined together.

"My woman," he panted as he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her against him again and again. Then he threw back his head and shouted in ecstasy, "My _wife!_"

He felt her tense against him as she shuddered and cried out in pleasure, and a triumphant growl escaped his throat. He kissed her deeply as he held her tightly in his arms. Then she opened her eyes as if dazed.

"Is this what you wanted with me, Thorin?" she whispered in awe. "Is this what you have been waiting for?" She searched his face intently.

He took a deep breath and put her hand on his face, and for the first time he allowed her to see the depth of his passion for her. She gasped as she saw and felt his fierce and jealous love, his need to bind her to him irrevocably, his ferocious physical desire for her, and his complete commitment to her happiness and well-being. Tears filled her eyes as she finally saw all that he had hidden from her.

"I am lost to you, my heart, my beloved," he whispered. "I surrender."

Then he stroked her gently and placed soft kisses on her neck and shoulders.

"I never knew it would be like this," she said wonderingly as he moved to lie beside her. "To be with you this way is the greatest joy I can imagine."

"We are truly one now my heart," he said softly, "one in mind, heart, spirit, and body. You _are_ my wife."

"And you are my _husband_," she said as her eyes shone into his. Then she took his hand and put it on her face and let him see everything she had felt about him since they first met.

"No secrets," she said tenderly. "We are one."

Thorin closed his eyes as he felt her love flowing through him, and he moaned as he felt her desire for him. Though new and fresh, it was already growing strong. Thorin exhaled in relief that she found as much pleasure in their joining as he did and while her love did not yet have the strength or depth of his, she was not too far behind him. Grace smiled and moved to fit herself against his side.

"No, lay back," he said with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "I'm not finished with you yet."

* * *

Thorin smiled broadly as he remembered her whole-hearted response—one of many as they loved each other until dawn when he was finally spent and she fell asleep in his arms.

"She is mine now," he thought proudly, "mine and no other's."

Gently, he touched her face and let his fingers stroke her long neck. He felt her heart beat in the hollow of her throat, and his blood grew hot as he nuzzled her neck and behind her ear. He wound strands of her shining hair around his finger.

"Grace, my heart?" he said, and he tickled her nose with the ends of her hair.

Slowly and gracefully she stretched like a cat, and then rolled over to run her hand along his hairy chest.

"You are very furry," she said sleepily. He took her hand and kissed her palm.

"Does that displease you?" he asked with some concern. She played with his chest hair and twisted it into little tufts.

"No," she said smiling. "I find it very pleasing."

"Did you find _everything_ pleasing, my heart?" he asked soberly.

She looked up. "I never knew that this pleasure could bring such joy," she said, "but I do ask one thing, Thorin." Her look was serious.

"Anything, my heart," he said looking deep into her eyes, "anything."

"Please me again," she said as she pulled him closer.

Thorin laughed with relief.

"I will never stop pleasing you," he said as his lips dipped to her mouth.

After five days, they emerged from their chambers to prepare for their coronations, Grace radiantly happy and Thorin satisfied beyond his imaginings. He was delighted to discover during that time that his wife had mischievous side. One morning while they ate around a small table, she had asked him about the hardest parts of ruling.

"The endless meetings," he said without hesitation. "I never mind productive discussion, but there are those who just like to talk and others who don't like to listen. Sometimes, I loathe walking into the main council chamber."

Grace looked thoughtful as she buttered a muffin.

"And would you ever like to travel, Thorin?" she asked innocently. He was about to reply when he felt something tickling his shin and moving up his leg.

"Well, I suppose it might be pleasant to see new places," he said as his voice faltered and he cleared his throat. The tickling became a definite caress, and it was moving up his thigh.

"So you have an itch to explore?" she asked, her eyes dancing merrily at his discomfort. "What new places would you like to see?" He coughed and looked heatedly at her wide smile.

"You're playing with fire woman," he growled. She laughed knowingly.

"Isn't that what I do best?" she asked, and he exhaled sharply when her soft foot found its destination.

"Minx!" he yelled as he lunged across the table for her, but she was ready and danced out of his reach, and the table tipped over spilling the remains of their meal on the floor. He turned to grab her when a pillow hit him full in the face. He shook his head astounded and angry that she dared hit him even in jest.

"I am king!" he said hotly as he stood tall and regal.

Another pillow sailed toward him.

"Not officially," she said giggling as the pillow hit him in the stomach. "And even so, a queen must help her king not take himself too seriously."

"Why you …!" he said chuckling in spite of himself. He reached for a cushion when another hit its mark. She brandished another cushion like a weapon, and he laughed at her antics. They circled each other as if in battle, each holding a cushion. Grace lunged and Thorin sidestepped, grabbed her around the waist, and wrestled her to the ground.

"Do you yield?" he asked slowly as he held her down on all fours.

Grace softened beneath him and he relaxed his hold on her.

"No!" she said as she braced her feet firmly and flipped him on his back. He lay there stunned and she sat on his belly.

"Now do _you_ yield?" she asked softly as she started running her hands along his chest. "Do you have any injuries you want me to kiss?" Then she started laughing.

"Thorin, you naughty boy!" she said. "Balin must have been fit to be tied! How dare you try to seduce me in front of him!"

He looked up penitently, his gray eyes blinking innocently.

"It was torture waiting for you, my heart," he said with a pout, "and I'm not a patient man. Besides, it was you who was doing the seducing actually."

She looked at him reproachfully and pursed her lips.

"Hmm, I guess that was so my clever husband," she said, "but you'll have to be patient now. Do you yield?"

"Yes," he said instantly as his eyes burned into hers.

"Good," she said, "because it's my turn to find out what pleases you."

Thorin was very pleased indeed, and he reveled in her playful spirit. She was blossoming in front of his eyes, and he knew without a doubt that she carried his heart inside her.

Late that night he awoke and reached for her, but she was not there, and the sheets were cold. Sitting up in alarm, he called for her, but no one answered. He checked in all the rooms of their chambers, but she was gone, and he raked his hands through his hair and went back to their bed and tried to calm his worry. Then he looked at her pillow and saw a small piece of paper. Snatching it up, he read "Join me at the main council chamber for an important meeting." Not knowing what to think, he dressed and hurried down the main hall.

He opened the door and saw Grace standing there with her hair streaming over her shoulders. She wore her light robe, and a pile of blankets and pillows was arranged on the large granite table. As soon as he came in she went to the door and shoved in a rock wedge to keep it closed.

"Grace, what is all this?" he asked as he looked around him. "I was worried when I woke up and you were gone."

She walked up to him and put her arms around his neck.

"I thought I'd give you a reason to enjoy meetings and this room, Thorin," she said as she kissed the corner of her mouth. A thrill ran through his body. "After tonight you can think of others things that have gone on in this room, and that might help you endure those long, boring speeches."

"Here?" he asked incredulously as he looked around the room and imagined his advisors sitting in their chairs.

She stepped away from him and dropped her robe. Underneath she wore a sheer shift that enhanced her curves. Thorin's jaw dropped as his eyes widened.

"Why not? But if you don't desire …" she started before he snatched her up and leapt onto the table.

Thorin chuckled deep in his chest as he remembered that when joined together that night in his supreme pleasure he burst out laughing. Grace had looked up at him startled and horrified and he hastened to explain.

"No, my heart, don't be offended," he had said as he looked down at her underneath him and kissed her lips. "It's joy, just pure joy." She looked at him not understanding. With one arm he gently reached around her back, and with the other he cradled her head. "It's just pure joy knowing that I now have a lifetime of loving you," he said softly and slowly looking deep into her eyes.

Grace had smiled and swatted his arm. "Next time don't scare me so!" she teased. Then she reached up and pulled him down for a long kiss and much else.

"She was right," he thought as he recalled that night. "I may even look forward to meetings now."

As they walked down the corridor, Thorin wound a lock of her hair around his finger and pulled her close. He kissed her neck and the hollow of her throat before she pulled away, his remembering making him yearn for more.

"One more time," he said with urgency, "I need you one more time."

Grace tenderly touched his face with her hands and shook her head.

"We have our whole lives before us, Thorin," she said, "but your people need a king, and a king needs a crown."

Exhaling hard, he agreed and pulled her to him.

"Promise never to leave me," he said as he searched her face.

"I already did," she said with a smile.

Representatives from ruling families came to Erebor for the coronation. Since the wedding was a private affair, the great majority of guests outside of Erebor, Dale, and Mirkwood had never laid eyes on Grace. They only heard tell of a wondrous beauty from another land who had helped Thorin and his company reclaim their homeland. They fell in love, and she stayed to be his queen. Those who knew the truth about Grace's identity kept it quiet. As a matter of friendship, Thorin asked Gandalf to crown him King Under the Mountain.

"Well, Thorin," Gandalf said as the dwarves prepared Thorin for the ceremony, "I had my doubts, but I underestimated you. Your reign will now become legend thanks to the Lady Grace."

Thorin smiled.

"I hope that my reign becomes legend for its own sake," he said, "but I will not deny that she will be much talked of." Then he frowned.

"What of Saruman?" he asked. "Could she still be in any danger?"

Gandalf shook his head.

"No," he said, "not as your queen. She is now quite safe. Her fame will be her protection, not to mention her battle skills, which I hear are most formidable."

The dwarves finished readying Thorin. He looked regal in his black shirt embroidered with silver, black breeches, and black leather-tooled robes trimmed with silver fox.

"It's time," Gandalf said with a smile.

They strode through the hallway and down the stairs where the procession was waiting. Balin carried the mithril crown proudly, and the members of the rest of his company were all clean and dressed in their best. Gandalf went ahead to wait at the throne. As Thorin walked the long walk through the cavernous Great Hall, he passed by the various delegations.

"This is our time," he thought proudly, "We have succeeded in restoring our home. All is well finally."

He reached the throne and with many words, Gandalf pronounced him king. The crowd cheered loudly.

Thorin turned and acknowledged them. Then he stilled crowd with his hands.

"I thank you for your good wishes," he said graciously, "and now I wish to introduce you to my wife and Queen Under the Mountain, the Lady Grace."

A faint glow lit the far back end of the hall. As Grace walked toward Thorin, her natural golden glow grew brighter and illuminated the polished rock walls. She wore a rich silver and white dress with a deep V-neck and long sleeves. She wore a diamond choker around her throat, and a thick chain of gold and diamonds was slung low on her waist. Her hair was caught up behind her ears with diamond combs, and gold and diamond pins in the shape of hummingbirds were woven into her curly tresses. Murmuring broke out as those who had not seen her whispered of this otherworldly beauty who had chosen to make her home with the dwarves.

Grace reached Thorin at last and smiled, her large eyes shining with unshed tears. He steadied his knees as he drank in her loveliness. Then he met her at the bottom of the stairs, took her by the hand, and led her to stand before her throne.

"You are my queen, and I am your servant," he thought to her as he led her up the steps. "I am yours to command."

Grace smiled mischievously at him.

"I'm sure that I will have a few commands for you later," she replied, and her smile grew wider. Thorin turned and gave her a smoldering look.

"Don't tempt me," he said silently. Grace just squeezed his hand and knelt before him. He took a delicate mithril and diamond circlet and placed it on her head. He gave her the oath of service and loyalty to him and his kingdom, and she repeated the words joyfully. All cheered as she stood and Thorin presented her as queen. Then he took her by the hand and led her to her throne. They sat side by side and awaited the delegations to come and pay their respects.

The dwarves came to pay their respects first. After representatives of the other dwarf kingdoms gave their best wishes and gifts to the couple, Dain stood with his delegation and bowed to Grace and then smiled at Thorin. He wore his usual armor with a lilac stone pendant on his chest in honor of Grace.

"Congratulations, Thorin," he said. "You are a shrewder dealer than I took you for. Never has there been such talk of our people. We are all going to gain from this, and now I see the wisdom of your choice."

Then he turned to Grace.

"My lady," he said, "we are proud now to call you kin. May you always find happiness at Erebor."

Grace smiled down at Dain.

"I am honored by your good wishes, my lord," she said. Then she stood and walked down to him. Thorin moved to stop her breach of protocol, but then he thought better of it and sat back and watched her proudly.

"I am very grateful for your support, Dain," she said as she laid her hand on his arm and smiled into his eyes. Dain felt warmth spreading throughout his chest. He looked at Grace, then at Thorin, and then at Grace again and grinned.

"I swear to you, my lady," he said proudly, "that our axes are yours should ever you have need of them."

Then he said under his breath, "Are there any more of your kin here? Any sisters perhaps?"

Grace laughed.

"Not that I know of, my lord," she said. "I appear to be the only one."

"Pity," he said. He called to Thorin.

"I wish you all success, Thorin, and a good night's sleep somewhere in your future."

Grace looked at Thorin questioningly, but he just reached out his hand to her and pulled her to sit back beside him.

Prince Larin walked up next with a complement of dazzled men, and Thorin ground his teeth, unable to stop the stirrings of his old jealousy. Prince Larin was dressed in silver brocade and now wore a mustache and short beard, and Thorin could not help looking at Grace and Prince Larin and thinking what a handsome couple they would make. Then he heard a snort from the audience and raised an amused eyebrow knowing that Bard was responsible. One of the men stepped up and gave Grace pouches containing seeds of rare flowers and fruits. Then Prince Larin stepped forward.

"My lord," he said to Thorin, bowing, and then he turned to Grace.

"My lady, it is my great joy to see you again. As you can see, your gift is now Gondor's prized heirloom, and I wear it always."

He held up a large lilac amethyst the same shade as Grace's eyes surrounded by the braid of her hair in a gold setting that he wore on a chain. His voice faltered as he gazed upon her, and he stood there staring until Thorin cleared his throat impatiently.

"All of Gondor wishes you great success in your endeavors to rebuild," he said quickly as he glanced at Thorin, "and we offer our friendship in times of both peace and trouble."

Grace stroked Thorin's hand as she smiled at Prince Larin.

"There is no cause for jealousy, my love," she thought to Thorin. "Remember whom I chose."

Thorin looked askance at her.

"Are there any more medallions I need to know about?" he replied testily. Then he took a deep breath and addressed his former rival.

"We are both grateful for the friendship of Gondor," he said with forced calm, "and we offer ours in return. May we always rejoice in each other's prosperity."

Grace patted his hand and nodded at Prince Larin.

"I thank you, Prince Larin, you will be remembered fondly," she said. He looked at her closely, and his eyes shone with joy as he finally smiled. Thorin shifted uncomfortably on his throne.

"I am indeed honored, my lady, to have such a place in your heart," he said with emotion. "No greater gift has ever been given me."

Grace stroked Thorin's hand.

"Be kind, my love," she thought to him. "He is young and his love for me is innocent."

"Not as innocent as you might think," Thorin grumbled back to her. Grace just smiled and wished Prince Larin farewell.

A delegation of elves came next. Thorin bit his lip in annoyed amusement as he looked at the tall, elegant elf prince who wore a lilac silk tunic, and he turned and rolled his eyes at Grace as he gripped her hand tighter.

"Are you planning to arm-wrestle me here?" she teased silently. "You've already won my husband."

"Then why do I feel like the competition isn't over yet?" he grumped. "If Bard walks up wearing lilac I'm not sure I'll contain myself."

Grace arched her eyebrow.

"Just wait until I have you alone later, Thorin," she said slyly, "and then you won't have to." She grinned at Legolas as Thorin's nostrils flared and his heart started pounding painfully in his chest.

Legolas looked at Thorin with almost concealed amusement as he bowed, and then he turned to bow to Grace.

"My lord and lady," he said smoothly, "I offer my congratulations and all my kin, including my father, wish you all success."

A tall elf stepped forward with a sword for Thorin and an elegant jewel-encrusted bow and arrow set for Grace.

Thorin looked at his blade, which was made of folded steel and encrusted with jewels. Script of inlaid mithril on the blade said "Erebor," and to Thorin's eyes it was the finest sword ever made.

"Truly a kingly gift, Legolas," he said impressed. "I am most grateful, and please give my thanks to your father as well."

Legolas looked on Grace with a soft eye.

"And these are for you, my lady," he said gently, "as I hear that your skill rivals my own."

Grace smiled brightly. "Thank you very much, Legolas," she said. "I look forward to using them. Perhaps a kingdom-wide contest and fair could be arranged. I believe our people would enjoy that."

Bard walked up next with some men from Dale. He wore his customary black for which Thorin was supremely relieved, and he stood tall and bowed before their thrones.

"My lord and lady, the people of Dale worked together to make this for you both," he said as he rolled out a large tapestry of Grace riding Smaug. The figures of Grace and Smaug were perfect in every detail, and a large, impressive figure of Bard stood below in the boat on the water with his arrow pulled taut. Thorin and the dwarves occupied the lower right corner in front of Erebor, their tiny swords hardly noticeable.

Thorin rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger as he struggled to keep his annoyance at bay, while Grace struggled not to laugh outright. Then they looked at each other and simultaneously smirked.

"Thank you, Bard, and thank the good people of Dale," Thorin said, now trying to keep a straight face, "the workmanship is, uh, exquisite."

Grace nodded her head quickly with her eyes opened wide. "Yes, indeed," she said, "we are most impressed, and I believe that we have the perfect place for it."

"In the mines?" Thorin asked silently, a small smile on his face.

"I was thinking the kitchens," she replied. "Fires are not unheard of in kitchens I hear."

Thorin coughed suddenly and thumped his chest with his fist while Grace serenely nodded her thanks again at Bard. Then they turned to each other and grinned.

* * *

**One their many situations that mirrored mine was that we received an atrocious piece of artwork as a wedding gift from a relative, and when she asked what I had done with it (I knew she would ask so I couldn't throw it out) I said that I had found the perfect place for it in the bedroom. I didn't say though that it was under the bed. So thanks for reading and please review! And for those who aren't officially following the story, you may want to check the box cuz I'm going on vacation soon and may not finish posting before then and so many stories are coming on line now that this one may be pushed to the bottom of the pile. Also, the next chapter carries an ANGST ALERT. All this romance and happiness can't go unchallenged, so brace yourselves!**


	43. Family Matters

**Most obvious clues as to what Grace is. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Chapter 43: Family Matters**

At the end of the procession stood three men, all wearing hooded velvet robes of midnight blue. Two were very tall and one was of average size. Grace looked at them curiously since she thought that all of the men of Gondor had been presented. She turned to Thorin with a questioning look.

"Gondor has many cities," said Thorin reasonably, "and they may be some of their ruling princes coming to pay their respects."

As Grace watched them approach, she spied a hint of iridescent gold as the edges of their robes curled around their feet. She started breathing faster and turned to Thorin in alarm. As he looked at her in concern she turned again to the men. The two taller men slowly removed their hoods, and the audience gasped at their appearance.

The men wore identical gold circlets of woven gold with a star at the highest point. Flashing jewels were set in their foreheads, and long golden hair rippled off their brows. Their faces of matchless masculine beauty were of straight noses, high cheekbones, strong jaws, and cleft chins. One had eyes as black as night and the other had eyes of pale blue. They regarded Grace somberly, and as she looked at them the jewel in her forehead began to glow and flash in unison with theirs. The light of the summer sun filled the Great Hall.

"Addarion," Grace said in shock as she looked from one to the other, "Tirius."

Thorin saw the men and turned to Grace in fear. She trembled violently as the jewel in her forehead flashed with theirs.

"Grace!" he cried and grabbed her hand. She shook him off and stood up, holding her hands to her temples and remembering everything.

Black-eyed Addarion lifted his golden hand and pointed at Grace.

"Defiled!" he shouted. "Law-breaker!" Grace grabbed her stomach with a cry and crumpled to the floor. Thorin leapt from his throne and unsheathed his sword. Standing in front of her and trembling with rage, he faced the Therians.

"If you take one step toward her," he said, shaking with fury, "I swear by my kingdom, I will cut you down."

Behind the Therians, the men of Gondor unsheathed their swords.

"We stand with King Thorin," Prince Larin said loudly, and he strode with his men from the crowd. He nodded to Thorin, and Thorin acknowledged his support and full membership in the club.

Bard and Legolas pulled their bows tightly behind the Therians. Legolas had two arrows in his bow.

"Do not move," Bard ordered. "We will not miss."

Then from all around the Great Hall, sounds could be heard of swords and battle axes being drawn. Dain stood next to Thorin with his ax, and Balin and the rest of Thorin's company ran to shield Grace.

"You'll not hurt my Gracie," Balin said angrily as he brandished his sword.

Then the third figure put his hand on Addarion's arm.

"Peace," he said. His voice was like rushing waters, and it echoed throughout Erebor.

He looked around at the angry crowd and at Bard and Legolas behind him, and he nodded with satisfaction. Then he held out his hand to Grace and said, "Saraya approach." She stood unsteadily, took a deep breath, and put her hand on Thorin's shoulder. She looked at him with infinite sadness and walked down the steps.

"No!" cried Thorin as he reached for her. The hooded figure held up his hand.

"You will not interfere, Thorin, son of Thrain," he said mildly. "I will have her speak her heart."

Grace faced him and then kneeled down before him.

"My king," she said quietly. The crowd gasped, and Thorin despaired.

"I'm dying," he thought. "I'm dying because I've lost my life." He sat down heavily on the steps leading up to their thrones and put his head in his hands. The crowd held its breath and awaited the end.

"There is no defilement here, Addarion," he said in a voice that easily carried to the farthest corners of Erebor. "Saraya did not knowingly break my law forbidding the joining with mortals. She cannot be held accountable because she had forgotten herself and did not understand the consequences of her actions."

Then he smiled.

"In fact, she has acquitted herself well indeed." He looked down at Grace with great affection and said, "The name you were given here attests to the purity of your heart, my dear one."

He looked around again at the determined faces and smiled.

"You have won the loyalty and love of many creatures," he said. "I am pleased."

He kissed Grace on the forehead and removed his hood. The crowd renewed its murmurs because he did not look like the other Therians. Here was not golden perfection but a man with white hair and bright eyes wearing a simple white robe and a sash around his waist. He looked up at Thorin and called to him.

"Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain," he said, "I ask that you approach."

Thorin glanced warily at the two blond warriors as he walked down the steps. He looked down at Grace with great sadness and stood before the man but did not look into his eyes.

"You are her father, I presume," Thorin said heavily.

The man laughed a deep, hearty laugh that sent the breath of life into each heart. Balin recognized his laugh and closed his eyes.

"He has come for her," he thought with a sinking heart. "Thorin will be destroyed."

The man looked at Thorin kindly.

"I am pleased with your forthrightness," he said.

"Have you come to take her home?" Thorin asked despondently.

He regarded Thorin quietly for a moment and stroked his chin.

"Saraya does not belong here. As you have learned, she is the Guardian of Joy for my children and they need her," he said. "We are at war and she is needed to fight despair. She has now learned how and must return, meanwhile you have learned almost everything you need to be the king your people deserve."

"Almost?" Thorin asked sarcastically. "What still do I lack? Do I need more experience with devastation and loss? Do I need more lessons in handling grief and anguish?"

"Thorin," Grace said warningly as she stood up and put her hand on his arm, "do not speak to him this way."

He turned on her in a fury.

"You could choose me, Grace," he said angrily. "You don't have to go back. You don't have to obey him any longer. He may be your father, but I am your husband. Are you not even going to fight for us?"

Grace closed her eyes tightly.

"Thorin, my love, you do not understand," she began, but he cut her off.

"What is there to understand?" he said challengingly. "I am a king, he is a king; I have my realm and he has his."

Grace shook her head.

"No, Thorin," she said. "You don't understand. His realm is everywhere."

Then Thorin looked into the man's eyes, and what he saw were not eyes but pools of pure light and in them he saw the stars swirling like wheels. He heard joyful laughter as the jewel was placed in Grace's forehead, and he heard a rich, loving voice call her to awaken for the first time. He saw a wise and compassionate heart watching over her as she fell and came to Middle-earth.

"He never did leave her," Thorin said to himself. "She was never truly alone."

He thought on the moments when she said that she had felt guided and recalled all the people who had helped her in crucial moments in her time on Middle-earth.

"They all had a part to play," he thought, "every one of them to help her and guide her as he arranged it. Bard, Legolas, Beorn, all the way back to…."

He stopped and inhaled sharply as the truth crashed upon him.

"All the way back to me," he thought with shock, "only I went beyond the part I was supposed to play, and so I have brought this on myself."

Thorin looked up at the man.

"You know," he said miserably, "you have always known, but now I love her, and she loves me. She is my wife. Does that count for nothing?"

"I understand," the man said compassionately, "but if she were to stay she would age and die, and that is not my wish for her. Joy must survive to overcome despair."

Thorin shook his head helplessly.

"If you have been watching all this time, why did you let me fall in love with her?" he cried. "Why did you let it go so far?"

The man smiled gently.

"I do not control your lives here, Thorin Oakenshield," he said. "It was your choice to love Saraya as you do, but now her time here is over. My children who you call Therians do not belong to this world."

The crowd rumbled as voices recalled the legends and told the stories to those who had not yet heard.

Grace stood and faced the one who made her.

"I love Thorin, my Lord, and I want to stay with him," she said clearly. "Is this your final word?"

The man looked at her and smiled tenderly.

"If she must return, will you let me go with her?" Thorin asked humbly. All within Erebor gasped at his request.

The man looked at Thorin astonished.

"You would give up your kingdom and your life for her?" he asked.

Thorin looked at him squarely. "Yes," he said simply.

The man breathed deep but shook his head. "Our existence is not for mortal beings," he said kindly, "but I will allow you to enter my realm when your life here is done."

Grace turned to Thorin and threw herself into his arms.

"It will not be that long, Thorin," she whispered fiercely, "I will come back to you somehow. I swear it."

Thorin held her tightly and stroked her hair. She took his hand and put it on her face and filled him with all the love she held.

"My heart is yours," she said to him. "Have faith, Thorin. Do not lose hope. It is your turn to trust me now. Promise me you won't lose hope."

Thorin shook his head sadly.

"I will try, Grace, but I can't promise," he said forlornly, "because you are my hope."

Grace found Balin in the crowd.

"Stand with him," she said. "It's not over." He wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded sadly.

Then her father held out his hand to her, and she took it and stood beside him.

"I love you, Thorin," she said earnestly. "I love you with all my heart, husband." She locked her eyes on his and spoke of her love for him until her face and voice faded away.

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**Please don't hurt me!**


	44. Despair and Delight

**I wasn't going to post again for a couple of days, but I'm getting hammered here, so I decided to take the time tonight to tweak and get this chapter out there before one of you decides to skin me alive. So stop sharpening your knives and please review!**

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**Chapter 44: Despair and Delight**

The days following were grim. The dwarves went about their lives, but the triumph of their return was gone and most regretted that they had ever come back to Erebor. The noisy din was reduced to hushed whispers and songs were no longer sung. Thorin ruled fairly and wisely but without joy. He tried to hold on to Grace's promise that she would come back to him, but as the days passed and turned into weeks and the weeks to months, his hope wavered and flickered out. Her absence was a raw and open wound that refused to heal; indeed, each day that ended without her in his arms only cut it deeper. His only comfort was sleep where he dreamt of Grace and imagined that they were still together. His heart would soar as he held her and kissed her tenderly, but daybreak was a bleak reminder of his loss, and he no longer slept in their chambers and instead made do with a small room off an isolated corridor. Balin shook his head as he watched Thorin walk through Erebor, his head down and his steps heavy, and he went to his friend and king.

"She promised that she would come back," he said to Thorin. "You must have faith."

Thorin turned to him, his gray eyes flashing angrily.

"She made many promises," he said, his words soaked in bitter resentment, "but she didn't keep them, did she? Where is she? Why hasn't she come back? If she loved me like she said she did she would have!"

Balin put his hand on his arm.

"Thorin, you musn't think such things," he pleaded. "Grace loves you truly. You know she does. You did not reclaim Erebor in a matter of weeks but years, Thorin, and you were patient then. Don't forget what you shared. You will have that again."

Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep, sobbing breath.

"I can't think about what we had, Balin," he said despairingly. "It only reminds me of what I've lost." Then he held up his hands in surrender and walked away.

Balin watched him leave and then closed his eyes tightly.

"Please, Grace," he said to himself, "if you are watching, please have mercy on him, on all of us and come back soon," and then he turned and looked up as Dwalin stood before him.

"We cannot go on like this brother," he said grimly, and he pulled Balin into a chamber where Fili and Kili were waiting.

"What do we do, Balin?" Fili asked. "This is like living in perpetual mourning. We all feel terrible about this, everyone does, but we need uncle to lead us out of it."

Balin shook his head. "Thorin is lost, laddie," he said sadly. "He can't even lead himself out of this."

"Maybe another woman," Kili suggested, "someone to help him forget."

Dwalin made a noise of disgust in his throat.

"You don't know your uncle, lad, if you think that another woman would make any difference," he said. "He is a dwarf who loves only once."

"Well, he doesn't have to love her," Kili said tentatively. He trailed off as the others rolled their eyes.

"Laddie," Balin said kindly, "we know you mean well, but there is something you should understand about your uncle. He waited for her—if you catch my meaning—he waited for his wife, and none but her will ever put the heart back into him."

Fili and Kili both looked at each other astounded, but they said nothing, and they all sat in silent misery.

"So what happens now?" Fili asked finally as he scratched his temple. "This is unbearable."

Balin stood straight as he looked into each face.

"We love him," he said firmly, "and we support him until she returns, and she will return. She promised."

The rest looked at him doubtfully, but Balin stood firm.

"I don't know when she will come back," he said, "but she will. I'm sure that she is working it out even now."

Fili and Kili nodded soberly and walked out the door determined to do their best to encourage the people and shoulder Thorin's duties, but Dwalin stayed behind.

"Brother, do you really believe what you said?" he asked as he sat on the edge of the table.

"I do, brother," Balin replied. "I must for Thorin's sake."

Six sad months passed before word came that an army of orcs led by Bolg was heading toward Erebor.

"Are you certain, Legolas?" Thorin asked. The elf prince nodded.

"They are on the move, Thorin," he said, "thousands of them. All of Moria has been emptied, and our kinsmen have told us that they are not stopping until they reach the front gate of Erebor."

Thorin nodded with his hand to his mouth.

"We must draw them away from Erebor," he said. "We will fight, but we will meet them on the hills above the plains."

"You could stay inside Erebor," Legolas countered. "They would never be able to breach the fortress."

Thorin pressed his lips together.

"But then they may seek out revenge on Dale and Lake-town," he said. "Send word to Bard to make sure that his people are out of harm's way. I know they seek a fight with me, but the innocent may be cut down if they are in the way."

Legolas shook his head and put his hand on Thorin's arm.

"But we can defeat them if we all fight together," he said. "We will join you. You will not be alone this time."

A small smile appeared on Thorin's face, the first since his coronation, but then it disappeared.

"Is this a gesture for her?" he asked glumly.

Just then a sentry announced Bard.

"I heard the news, Thorin, and my men are arming," he said as he walked quickly into the council chambers, but he stopped short as he looked at Thorin and saw his haggard appearance and the hollow look in his eyes. Bard shot a worried frown at Legolas who quirked a brow in understanding.

"Thorin," Legolas said patiently, "we are your friends for your sake, and we will not let you down."

Thorin stared assessingly at both of them and then sighed and nodded his head.

"Forgive me, Legolas," he said, "and I thank both of you." He looked at his friends who stood prepared to fight to the death for him and his people. "If the elves and the men from Dale are willing, we would be honored to have you with us."

The elf prince looked at him carefully.

"I do not doubt your honor, Thorin," he said, "but is there any part of you that wishes to lose this fight? I know how hard things have been for you since…"

"Don't say her name!" he said fiercely. "No one is allowed to say her name!" He hung his head. "I can't bear it," he said brokenly.

Bard nodded to Legolas, and they both put their hands on Thorn's shoulders, and gripped him hard in sympathy. Then they took their leave. At the door, Legolas turned back to Thorin and said, "If not for yourself, Thorin, then for your people make a good fight of it."

Thorin nodded without looking at him.

Several weeks later Bolg was within miles of Erebor, and Thorin and the dwarves grimly prepared for battle.

"I am glad of this," he told Balin, "now I have an honorable excuse to die."

Balin looked at him sadly and shook his head. "You still have much to live for," he said. "You did before she came, and you do still."

"No!" Thorin said forcefully. "She took that all with her, and when I die in battle perhaps I will see her again. It is my only hope now, but don't despair. I will make a good fight of it first."

The mood was heavy as the dwarves marched off. There were no songs of past battles or hearty jokes to encourage the heart for all felt Thorin's grief at the loss of his queen.

"We're not going to be victorious with this over us," Dwalin grumbled to Balin. "We might as well be carrying shovels for our own funerals instead of axes."

Balin did not answer, knowing that without inspiration and courage they were on a fool's errand.

"Thorin's grief will kill us all," he thought dispiritedly.

Ahead they heard the orcs screeching, wargs howling, and the rumbling of trolls. The dwarves steeled their fading courage and prepared inwardly to die.

"We might perish today," Balin said to Dwalin, "but we will not be cowards," and they galloped into the fray.

Thousands of orcs spilled across the plain and rushed headlong into the dwarves' front lines. Thorin and his army fought valiantly, attacking and counterattacking, pushing the orcs away from Erebor, but more spilled out like locusts. The armies of the elves and men from Dale were pushed aside as the orcs concentrated on the exhausted and outnumbered dwarves. Bolg ordered the orcs to hunt down and kill the last of the line of Durin. Fili was set upon by nine orcs and managed to kill three when Legolas and Bard broke through to shoot five more. One orc, however, evaded Fili's blade and slashed him across the neck and he went down. Kili turned and seeing his brother fall ran to his side but was pierced by three arrows, and he dropped beside his brother. Believing their task completed, Bolg's orcs went in search of Thorin. They did not have to go far to see the king, already beset by five orcs. The bodies of orcs, wargs, and several trolls lay around him in various piles where they fell.

Thorin whirled and slashed, dispatching the five, when a band of orcs shouted that they had found the king.

"Take down that dwarf-scum," Bolg said as he approached with a sneer. A thrown dagger caught Thorin in the arm, and his sword clattered on the ground.

"I am finished," he thought to himself, "Grace, I beg you, take me home."

He heard the slice of an orc blade in the air and closed his eyes to die, but the blade hit against metal on the back of his neck. Turning, he saw Addarion holding the flat of his blade against his neck and Bolg and his orcs dead on the ground.

"My sister is very persuasive," he said smiling, and he led Thorin's gaze to the top of the Lonely Mountain.

High above on the very peak stood a twinkling gold figure flashing brightly like a miniature sun.

"Leave my husband and his family alone or you will have to deal with mine!" she shouted fiercely.

Her voice echoed loudly down the mountain and throughout the valley, and the orcs screamed and covered their ears. All eyes looked up, and Thorin fell to his knees as he held his arms out to her.

Then thousands of points of light appeared on the mountain, and they joined together to move like a golden curtain down the slopes and over the hills to the plains.

The orcs turned and ran, but there was no escape. The curtain passed over the dwarves, elves, and men and knocked them to the ground. Then flanking around them, the golden light blasted the orcs, trolls, and remaining wargs into fine powder. When the haze finally cleared, the survivors saw Thorin and Grace locked in hungry embrace. He kissed her face over and over as he breathed her name, oblivious to the dwarves gathering around them.

"Tell me that you are here to stay, my heart," he pleaded as he held her tightly.

Her brothers stepped forward smiling.

"She is," Tirius said. "Instead of fighting despair for us, she taught us how to fight for ourselves. She said she learned that from you."

Addarion nodded and looked at Grace proudly.

"Father was most impressed by her arguments to come back to you," he said, "although he already knew what she would say."

But Thorin shook his head.

"I will not be satisfied until I hear it from her own lips," he said, and he stood her in front of him. "Grace, my heart, what say you?" he asked carefully. "Are you here to stay?"

Grace looked at him lovingly and put her hands on his face.

"I will not leave you again except by death, Thorin," she said softly. "You are my home forever."

Instantly, Thorin picked her up and kissed her fiercely. Dwalin put his hand on Balin's shoulder and smiled.

"Do you need a handkerchief, brother?" Dwalin asked in a low voice, but Balin swatted his hand away and sniffled loudly.

Then Nori ran up and shouted that there were many wounded who were close to death, including Kili and Fili. They ran over to see where they lay motionless. Thorin cried out and dropped to his knees and cradled his nephews in his arms.

Addarion and Tirius looked at Grace.

"Did Father grant you the power?" she asked seriously.

"Yes," Addarion replied, "but it will also take all of your own to accomplish this."

She nodded.

"Given with all my heart," she said. "Work quickly."

Then she glanced at Balin.

"Tell everyone to pull out weapons from the wounded." she said. "Start with Kili and Fili." Balin hurried away and gave the orders.

Addarion shouted a command in their tongue, and all the Therians began to sing the same melody sung by Grace when she danced on the land. Thorin got up and gripped her by her shoulders.

"What did he mean?" he asked fearfully. "No one would ask you to sacrifice anymore, Grace, not now."

"No one needs to, Thorin," she said and she began to sing.

The Therians' golden glow streamed onto the injured, and wounds began to heal, but Grace's glow diminished faster than the others, and at the end she tottered into Addarion's arms. She looked down to see Fili and Kili stirring, and Thorin quickly checked on his nephews, greatly relieved to see them recovering rapidly. Then he turned turned to see Grace stagger in Addarion's arms. He quickly breathed onto her forehead jewel, and Tirius stood with him to hold her steady while she recovered. She looked at Thorin and gave him a wan smile.

Thorin, however, was not reassured.

"What happened to her?" he demanded.

"She gave up her immortal life to come back to you," Tirius said, "and to save your people she has now given up all her powers as well."

"But she will recover?" Thorin asked as he moved to take her from her brothers.

"Yes," Addarion said, "she will, but now she will die when you do. That was her request."

Thorin looked at her and shook his head sadly.

"I do not deserve you," he said. "I am a selfish fool. Forgive me for giving up so quickly and doubting your love for me, my heart. I swear I will not make the same mistake again."

Grace lifted her hand tiredly and stroked his face while Addarion and Tirius nodded at each other and smiled.

"While that is true, Thorin," Tirius said with a twinkle in his eyes, "she has chosen well for you are also honorable, devoted, and courageous, and you have now learned your final lesson. We are honored to fight by your side and be your kinsmen."

Then they looked Grace fondly and smiled together.

"We have a wedding present for you," Addarion said, and he whispered in Grace's ear. She nodded happily.

"Father also wishes to give you a wedding gift," he said, and he and Tirius stepped forward to put their hands on her shoulders. A beam of pure, white light shot from their hands through her body. She gasped and put her hands over her mouth.

"Not for a while yet, Saraya," Tirius said with a smile, "but make certain you tell him when the time comes."

He opened his arms, and Grace hugged him tightly.

"I will miss you dearly, little one," he said, "but I see a new joy in your face and for that I am contented. We will not forget what you taught us, and should you ever have need of us, Father has granted us permission to come to your aid."

Then Addarion stepped forward, kissed her, and hugged her gently.

"You have given us many reasons to rejoice Saraya Grace," he said. "Our love, peace, and joy will always be part of your heart. May you always find them renewed."

As the dwarves gathered together the living and worked to honor the dead, a number of figures in black appeared on the horizon. Suddenly, Addarion stiffened, and all the Therians drew their swords.

"Who are they?" Grace asked curiously.

Addarion turned to her.

"You have met this one before, little sister, in the guise of an elf, although that was not the full manifestation of his power," he said seriously. "Then he was limited but he has brought others, so we must go now and finish what we began when you were with us."

He stood before Thorin and said, "An evil is slowly rising in your land that was vanquished long ago, and when it is fully alive you will find what you need to destroy it under the Misty Mountains. But now you must take all of your people into Erebor and close the gate. We will shield you all from his evil, but you must hurry."

After shaking their hands and giving them his thanks, Thorin immediately called for all survivors to enter the fortress until it was safe. Grace kissed her brothers, and they lifted her up into Thorin's saddle. He settled her in front of him and rode away with his people.

Addarion, Tirius, and the Therian host then faced the figures who quickly retreated to the shadows until they were chased out of Middle-earth.

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**OK, now you all can stop the angry reviews and PM's! And congrats to Lupinotuum for the correct guess. Grace is indeed an angel, a guardian angel that is, and whose guardian angel do you now suppose her to be? Also, what does that make Faldor? Satan perhaps? And her father is ... well, I think you all are getting the picture. I actually used a number of Bible verses including "and I saw the glory of the God of Israel coming from the east. His voice was like the roar of rushing waters, and the land was radiant with his glory." (Ezekiel 43:2), and the description of Grace's Father comes from the book of Revelation. There are other references to Bible verses throughout the story, but now you know! And we aren't done yet. Thorin had to learn an important lesson on trust and faith in the face of doubt, and it appears that he has, so we can move on. Just about everyone's story line will get its due. So now I would appreciate some happy reviews! You guys have put me through the ringer-but I suppose I deserved it! Cheers!**


	45. Joyful Occasion

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**Chapter 45: Joyful Occasion**

Grace fell asleep from exhaustion shortly after they entered the gate, and Thorin carefully laid her on their bed. He watched over her anxiously throughout the night, his eyes fixed on her peaceful face.

"We have been here before, Thorin," she said as her eyes opened sleepily, "only this time you don't have to watch from a chair."

"I didn't want to disturb you, my heart," he said. "You've given so much, and you deserved a rest."

But Grace held out her hand.

"I don't want to sleep without you," she said. "I need you with me."

Thorin took her in his arms and sighed contentedly.

"Do you, my heart?" he asked. "Do you need me as much as I need you?"

Grace stroked his chest, and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Why do you think I can back?" she said. "Thorin, your love with _always_ bring me back to you."

Thorin kissed her jaw and soft throat and then buried his face in her neck. Grace sighed as she held him but then felt him shaking.

"Thorin, my love, what's wrong?" she asked with concern, and she pulled back to try and see his face, but he would not look at her. She stroked his hair, wiped his tears away, and waited for him to speak.

"When you left I died and only an empty shell of a man existed," he said, his deep voice choked and quiet. "I gave up so quickly, but if it had been me who left, I would have expected you to remain faithful in my return." He looked away as a tear trickled down his cheek. "I failed us, my heart."

Grace gently held his remorseful face and kissed him.

"My love," she said seriously, "you must not have regrets. You are used to being in control, and it is a hard thing to give that up and still remain faithful. It is a quality every king must have so that they will bend and not break when trouble comes. I fear your father and grandfather lacked it, but where they failed you succeeded."

Thorin snorted.

"I don't see how," he said shaking his head.

Grace smiled widely.

"You learned from it, Thorin," she said encouragingly, "you learned and that makes all the difference."

Thorin thought through her words and finally smiled.

"What happens now?" he asked seriously. "What did your brother mean when he said that you would die when I did?"

Grace inched down on the bed so that she could face Thorin, and she kissed him deeply. He immediately pulled her into him as he caressed her shoulders and back. Then she pulled back and kissed him on the nose.

"Father promised me that we will die in each other's arms when we are old and our lives here are done," she said happily. "He promised, and he always keeps his word. It will happen as he said."

Thorin nodded, somewhat mollified.

"So will we get some kind of message?" he asked curiously. "I would want to spend some hours with you privately before we fade away." He grinned and raised a brow, and she swatted his arm and laughed. Then she pursed her lips.

"Will you mind my growing old?" she asked hesitantly.

He laughed joyfully.

"No, indeed," he said. "I am looking forward to it for then I will have fewer unwanted admirers to contend with."

Grace pulled back and looked at him curiously.

"Whoever said they were unwanted?" she asked mischievously.

Thorin's mouth opened in dismay until he saw her merry eyes.

"Minx!" he cried as he flipped her underneath him. He kissed her hard and then growled against her neck, sending goose bumps running up and down her arms and legs.

"Oh, stop, Thorin!" she squealed as she tried to push his head away, "that tickles!"

He laughed happily and rolled over and pulled her to him.

"But will we grow too old to love each other as we do now?" she asked as she spread her hands on his strong chest.

"My heart," he said, "We dwarves live long and love long. We are a lusty people; you can ask Balin if you don't believe me."

Then he looked down the length of her.

"But as for me," he said, "I will never stop loving you. As you said, one day we will be on our death bed, but I'll not die until I've had one more time with you."

Then very slowly Thorin loved his wife and made up for all the time he was apart from her.

Joy returned with Grace to Erebor, and it became a familiar sight to see her in the hallways and workrooms. The dwarves adored her one and all, and they breathed sighs of relief when they saw Thorin smiling and laughing once again.

Balin shook his head and smiled. "She belongs here."

One day she came in to their rooms during the day after becoming tired suddenly. She sent word to Thorin that she would be retiring for the afternoon and that she needed to see him, and he soon came into their chambers. She wore a light lace chemise and her hair loosely fell about her as she stood in the solarium reviving different plants and flowers that were wilting.

Thorin was surprised and pleased.

"I thought you couldn't do that anymore," he said. "I thought that all of your powers were gone."

She shook her head and smiled. "No, a few remain," she said. "This is my wedding present from my brothers. They didn't understand why I wanted this, but Father knew how important it was to me and he allowed it."

"Wonderful gift, indeed," Thorin said as he walked up to her. "Are you well?" he asked with concern. She nodded and he took her in his arms and kissed her. She tried to push away to talk to him, but he continued to seek her lips more urgently as he pulled her against him.

"We need to talk, Thorin," she said finally. "I have something to tell you." He ran his fingers through her hair and started kissing her under her jaw.

"Thorin!" she said laughing as she twisted in his arms, "you're not listening!"

He scooped the hair off of her shoulder and starting kissing her collarbone.

"What is it, my heart?" he asked as he nuzzled her and breathed in her scent. "Are you as hungry for me as I am for you? Is that what you desire? I have the rest of the day if you wish."

She laughed and pushed his head away, and then she took his hand and led him into their bedroom. He quickly took off his coat and jacket, picked her up in his arms, and placed her on their bed. She sat on her knees, and she held her hand against his chest as he reached for her.

"Yes, but first I want to see your face," she said as she traced his eyebrows and ran her hands along his face and down his braids.

"Do you remember when I first did that?" she asked.

He nodded smiling, his handsome face brightening at the memory.

"I wouldn't admit it then, even to myself, but you nearly drove me mad," he said. "It took all of my training and knowing that others were watching to keep me at bay. I didn't know how, but I knew then that my life was forever changed come what may."

She took his hand and held it in hers.

"Father gave me a gift, Thorin," she thought to him with a wide smile, "a gift that he knew you would treasure when the time was right. Addarion told me to tell you when I was sure. Now I am."

Thorin looked puzzled. She kissed his hands and placed them on her belly.

"I carry your children, my love," she said. "In about eight months' time you will be a father."

"Two?" Thorin asked incredulously. He quickly gathered her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

"I love you, Grace," he said when he could breathe. "I love you with all that I am and will ever be."

Grace nuzzled his cheek and smiled.

"As I love you, my husband. Now bolt the door, Thorin," she said as she lay back on the bed. "We have some celebrating to do."

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**Hey all, we are winding up the story, with only a couple more chapters to go, but please review!**


	46. Joyful Occasion Part 2

**Hey all, after this one more chapter to go to wrap things up, and I ask all of my silent readers to review. Your voices, comments, and critiques not only help make my day-writers need lots of encouragement!-but also help me spot rough spots in my plotting and writing. **

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**Chapter 46: Joyful Occasion Part 2**

All of Erebor found great amusement in their king over the next few months. Never expecting to have a wife let alone be a father, Thorin walked around his kingdom with a giddy smile for those first weeks. The dwarves laughed behind their hands to see their serious king so distracted, and their affection for him only grew. Then as Grace began to show, he became the overprotective husband racing up the green marble stairs to help her down.

"Thorin," Grace said patiently as she struggled not to show her annoyance. "I don't need to be carried down the stairs. I'm only five months along. I can still walk."

Balin and Dwalin chuckled as after Grace left they saw Thorin reprimand a guard for letting the queen start down the stairs by herself.

"Come on, brother," Balin said with a wide grin. "That poor young dwarf looks like he needs to be rescued."

The guard cringed as Thorin thundered his disapproval.

"Erm, my lord," Balin interrupted with mock seriousness, "is anything amiss?"

Thorin glared at him, his chest heaving with anger.

"I will not risk my children on a fall down the stairs!" he fumed. "I will not allow her to be injured."

Balin looked askance at him and asked if he and Dwalin might have a word.

"Begging your pardon, my king," he said, "but exercise is good for the women when they carry. They need to keep up their strength for childbirth. You can ask Oin or the midwives. They will tell you what's good for Gracie and what isn't, but you're starting to scare people with all this yelling and that is _not_ good for her."

Thorin exhaled sharply and put his hands on his hips. Then he motioned for them to meet with him privately in a nearby chamber.

"I'm so worried for them," he admitted after he shut the door. He raked his hands through his hair and sat down heavily. "I lost Grace for a time, and I nearly lost my mind. I don't think I can go through that again."

Balin and Dwalin stood silently while they digested his words. Thorin rarely shared his fears with anyone except his wife, and they knew that he was deeply troubled to share his heart so openly with them.

"If I recall, Thorin," Balin said gently, "Gracie was called home to help you see your need to trust as well as to help her family, so I advise you to practice now before the bairns are born because one day, laddie, you'll have to let them go and live their own lives, and you'll need everything you've learned to let them go with a smile."

Thorin looked over to Dwalin, and the tall warrior nodded.

"He tells it true, Thorin," he said gruffly, "and you'll wear your people out if you go on this way."

Thorin paced with his hands behind his back, his face set in a deep frown. Balin and Dwalin watched with hidden amusement as he wrestled with himself, muttering under his breath as he worked out his worries. He argued back and forth with himself until he stopped and took a deep breath.

"Very well," he said as he stood resolute. "Send in the guard."

Balin and Dwalin hesitated for a moment, but Thorin smirked and they sighed in relief. The guard quaked at the thought of a private audience with the king, but the young dwarf left the room a few minutes later with a wide smile and a bounce in his step. Thorin then found Grace and after confessing his fears the two laughed together.

"I will always appreciate how much you care for me, my love," she said as they walked through the halls, "but would you be too offended if I tell you that I could hardly keep a straight face when you wanted to spoon-feed me so I wouldn't cut myself with a butter knife at the table?"

Thorin chuckled.

"Yes, well, new fathers must be allowed a bit of lunacy now and then, my heart," he said. "My responsibilities to my family have just tripled, and I need time to adjust."

Then Grace tugged at her gown with frustration.

"Speaking of adjusting, I think I need some new clothes," she said. "This gown is too tight now, and it's very uncomfortable."

Thorin's eyes immediately flashed with concern, but Grace laughed and put her hand on his arm.

"It takes time to learn new ways, doesn't it?" she asked as her eyes sparkled with mirth.

That night as they lay in bed, Thorin ran his hand lovingly over his wife's swelling belly.

"You are so beautiful, my heart," he said tenderly, in awe at life growing inside her. Grace looked at him and frowned.

"I don't_ feel_ beautiful," she said irritably, "I feel like I switched places with Bombur."

Her comment caught him so by surprise that he burst out laughing, which, unfortunately, only increased her annoyance, and she huffed and turned away from him. He reached for her, but she shrugged him off, and he was taken aback.

"My heart," he said tenderly, "don't be angry. I wasn't laughing at you."

She rolled over then and glared at him.

"Oh, weren't you?" she said rudely. Then she burst into tears, and he gathered her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Thorin," she wailed, "I don't know what came over me! I just don't feel like myself anymore."

He kissed her temple.

"Be patient with yourself, Grace," he said as he looked into her eyes. "It seems that with every new situation the challenge is to trust through it, but now, my heart, we can help each other."

He played with a braided ribbon on her chemise and lifted up the ends to show her.

"I am one strand," he said, "and by myself I nearly broke, but here you are the other strand, and if we stay wrapped tightly around each other, we will be twice as strong."

She looked at the ribbon and pursed her lips.

"But there are three strands here, Thorin." she said.

He shrugged his shoulders. "But you get my meaning?" he said.

She kissed him deeply.

"I do," she said. Then she smiled slyly and draped her leg over his hip. "Especially the part about wrapping tightly around each other."

Thorin put one hand behind her head and the other around her swelling waist and pulled her close.

"I knew you'd understand," he said as his lips found hers.

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A little more than 4 months later a sleepy Balin was roused from his bed.

"Is it time?" he asked yawning. Dazedly, he sat down with Thorin on the bench outside the door. Thorin had been waiting for three hours but it felt like three days to him, and each cry and moan only made him bite his knuckles harder.

"This can take many more hours, Thorin," he said. "You might as well sleep now because you won't be sleeping later."

"I'll not leave her, Balin," he said, "and how could I sleep knowing what is happening?"

He heard her cry out loudly and quickly moved toward the door.

"Sit down, Thorin," Balin said firmly, "it isn't proper for you to be in there. Oin has delivered many a bairn, and she's in good hands."

Thorin put his fist to his mouth as he heard her cry out again.

"But she isn't a dwarf or a human woman," he said. "There may be differences."

Balin chuckled.

"Meaning no disrespect now, Thorin, to you or my Gracie," he said, "but if there were any differences you'd have found them by now."

Then the door opened, and a midwife motioned for Thorin to enter.

"My lord," Oin said proudly. "I would like to introduce you to your son and daughter." The midwives gave Thorin his daughter, a girl with golden hair, creamy skin, and flashing gray eyes.

"Welcome my beauty," he said as a tear trickled down his cheek. "We have waited a long time for you."

He turned to see Grace holding their son, a dark and striking boy with his father's moody gaze and his mother's sparkling lilac eyes.

"My darling boy," Grace said, "you are as handsome as your father." She smiled at Thorin and put out her hand to draw him near.

"I love you, Thorin," she said, "and I'm so happy. Look what we have been blessed with. They are so beautiful, and we get to enjoy them together."

She took her daughter from him and cradled both babies in her arms. Thorin kissed her tenderly and then put his arms around his family and sighed.

"I am so grateful, my heart," he said as he looked down smiling into her eyes. "I have more than I could have ever asked for or imagined, and for the first time in my life I am perfectly at peace."

He stayed in the delivery room and requested a cot be brought in for him. They all slept for a few hours, and then Thorin ordered for them to be moved to the new nursery adjacent to their bedchamber. He stayed all day with his new family, attending to Grace's every need and spending time with his children. Then at night he awakened Grace.

"My heart, do you feel you can walk?" he asked. She looked at him surprised.

"I think so, why?" she asked. Thorin looked thoughtful.

"I feel that there is something we need to do," he said decisively. Grace swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood with his help.

"I can manage now, Thorin," she said. He asked her to hand him the twins and motioned her to follow him. Slowly and carefully he walked down the hall and up the stairs to the battlements.

"Do you need me to call someone to help you, Grace?" he asked as she made her way along.

"No, I am well," she said as she walked slowly. "Lead on."

Once on the rampart, Thorin told Grace to take their son.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

Thorin turned to her and smiled.

"I want to show your Father his grandchildren," he said softly.

Grace's eyes welled up. "Thank you," she said through happy tears, "thank you so much."

"That's what I wanted to say," he said, and he turned to the sky and lifted up his daughter. "Thank you," he said humbly, "thank you so much for her. I am unworthy, but I swear that I will love her as best as I'm able and protect her with my life." Then he took his son. "Thank for so much for him. I will do my best to love him and help him be an honorable man, and I will always let him know how proud I am of him."

Grace leaned against Thorin and took his arm.

"Thank you, Father," she breathed. "I am so happy and now complete. Thank you for allowing me to stay with Thorin. I love him so very much, and I am so grateful for the children you've given us."

They held their children and each other carefully and enjoyed the stillness of the night.

Suddenly, a series of shooting stars blazed across the inky sky, and Thorin turned to Grace in surprise.

"Did I hear…?" he started to ask, his eyes wide with amazement.

She nodded and kissed his cheek.

"Yes, my love," she said with a beaming smile, "you heard right. They are singing."


	47. Author's Note 2

Hi All,

Before I post my last chapter or couple of chapters if it takes that long to wrap everything up, I wanted to ask you all what you want to have happen with everyone. I have some ideas, but I'd like to find out what you all think would make a satisfying ending. I promise no more angst although I have a joke or two to play on some of them, but I promise that I will take good care of all of them! So please write in reviews instead of PM's so others can see your ideas, and I'll get to work when I get back from vacation! Many thanks to Lizzie Oakenshield for her lovely and thoughtful PM's and Cheyenne for her comments and enthusiasm!

Best,

Lillian


	48. What in a Name?

**Here's a short chapter. I've decided that it will probably take a few more chapters than I originally thought to wrap things up well. So enjoy and please review!**

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**Chapter 48: What's in a Name?**

"What shall we name them, my heart?" Thorin asked gently as his son's tiny hand curled around his forefinger. Grace's brows furrowed. They had spent months thinking through various names and their significance, and now the twins were several days old and still nameless and the Day of Presentation was fast approaching.

"I don't know," she said with a frown. "None of them seem fitting now somehow." She wore a silky white nightgown as she sat up in bed with the twins propped up against her.

Thorin eyes rested warmly on his son and daughter, and he softly called them by the various names they had chosen and agreed that none of them seemed appropriate.

"The problem is that they aren't only dwarves," he said finally. "They are as much your people as mine." Then he smiled widely as a thought came to him, and he picked up his son. He rubbed his nose against his son's downy soft skin and breathed in his fresh baby scent. Then he gently kissed his cheek and the top of his dark head.

"Theran," he whispered gently. He turned to Grace with the question in his eyes, and she smiled with delight.

"Theran," she agreed as she took him back and cradled him in her arms. "Theran Oakenshield Durin." Then Thorin picked up his daughter and looked at her carefully as he sat down on the bed. She reached out and grabbed his finger and squeezed hard, her gray eyes focused and determined.

"Ow!" he said in surprise. "She is a strong lass to be sure, as strong as her mother." He looked at her carefully.

"She really sees me, Grace," he said in wonder. "Look at her eyes."

Grace looked over Thorin's shoulder as he held his daughter. Her eyes were trained on her father's face appraisingly until she pulled his finger into her mouth and wriggled happily in his arms.

"Since I'm not using my real name why don't we give it to her?" Grace suggested. "Saraya Grace Durin."

Thorin laughed happily. "Beautiful," he said as he leaned in to give Grace a kiss. "Just like you."

At the Day of Presentation, the dwarves of Erebor as well as invited guests stood before the throne and watched with great joy as Thorin and Grace walked down the long corridor with their children. Thorin beamed with pride as he held Theran. His son was swaddled in rich crimson velvet embroidered with gold, and he cooed loudlyat his father, making those lining the corridor chuckle fondly. Grace walked with Saraya who was swaddled with lilac velvet embroidered with silver, and she wore a tiny silver and diamond clip in her delicate blond curls.

Bard and Legolas stood alongside Dain and Thorin's company as they watched them approach.

"I've never seen Thorin looking happier," Legolas commented as he nodded at the couple, "and she has never looked more beautiful. Motherhood suits her well."

Grace indeed was glowing with joy as she walked beside her husband. She wore a white lace gown that accentuated her fuller figure, and her long gold hair curled freely about her shoulders and down past small of her back. Thorin had asked her not to cut her glorious hair, and now it tumbled in coils shining like antique gold. She looked and was magnificent, and Bard drew a deep breath as he watched her approach and shifted uneasily while Legolas looked askance.

"Bard," he said gently, "she was never ours to win. You need to let her go. It was always her destiny to be with Thorin. You know that."

Bard looked up at the high vaulted ceiling and sighed.

"How can you be so rational all the time?" he asked with frustration. "I know well what you say, but that doesn't change what I feel in my heart. How can you turn yours off so easily?"

Legolas looked at Bard with the wisdom of living for thousands of years.

"Because I know that just as she was meant for Thorin, there will be others who are meant for us," he said calmly, "and when we find them we will be complete and at peace. Just like Thorin is now."

Bard grimaced.

"I hope you are right," he grumbled, "but I can't see anyone ever matching her."

Standing at their thrones, Thorin raised his hand to the crowd.

"The queen and I wish to introduce to you all Prince Theran Oakenshield and Princess Saraya Grace," he said proudly. The crowd erupted with cheers and Thorin and Grace raised the twins so that the crowd could see their faces. Nobles and others close to Thorin and Grace were allowed to see and even hold the babies for a short while.

"Come to grandpa," Balin said eagerly as he held out his arms for Saraya. She looked solemnly at him, her eyes roaming over his face until she saw the loving twinkle in his eye, and then she gurgled with delight.

"She knows me!" he said flabbergasted. "What a smart little thing she is! Takes after her grandfather no doubt, well, one of us anyway."

Dwalin shook his head and stepped back when Thorin tried to hand Theran to him.

"I wield a war axe, my lord," he said gruffly. "I've no experience with dwarflings," and he folded his arms over his chest. "But he is a handsome lad to be sure," he said as he leaned in to look at his face. Just then Theran burped loudly, and Dwalin chuckled in spite of himself. Before he knew it he was holding Theran and tickling his lower lip and grinning as the young prince blew little spit bubbles.

Thorin nodded to Grace and she stepped forward and stilled the crowd.

"In honor of their birth," she said, "we will aid Dale in reopening the markets for a fair, and in one month's time we will hold games for those of Dale, Erebor, and Mirkwood, as well as all qualified comers."

The crowd cheered wildly.

"Will you be testing your gift from my kin against me, my lady?" Legolas asked with a grin.

She shook her head with a resigned smile.

"Not this time, Legolas," she said, "the children are too tender for me to leave them as yet." Then she smiled impishly. "So you have a chance to win now."

Legolas laughed. "Pride, my lady?"

"No, my friend," she answered with a lifted brow and a smirk, "just certainty."

Later that afternoon, Thorin and Grace went into the nursery to put the twins to sleep, but the finely carved wooden cradles were not empty.

"What is this?" Thorin asked as he looked inside Saraya's cradle. He picked up a small bow and arrow set made of a golden metal that he did not recognize. The bow was exquisitely made and encrusted with flashing jewels that emitted their own light, and the arrows were perfectly balanced with blunted ends. Grace looked inside Theran's cradle and pulled out a small harp encrusted with the same flashing jewels. As she plucked the strings unearthly sounds were made, and the jewels flashed along with the tones.

"I've never seen the like," Thorin said with awe. "The craftsmanship is beyond anything in Middle-earth." He looked up at Grace who was holding her stomach.

"My heart," he said anxiously, "are you ill?"

Grace finally burst out laughing and laughed until she fell in a chair holding her sides. Thorin stood there stunned and looked from Grace to the gifts.

"I don't understand," he said finally.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and chuckled some more.

"My brothers have a keen sense of humor, Thorin," she said smiling. "These are my family's presents for our children, and they are fine indeed, but they also represent some people's rather strange stories and beliefs regarding us."

Thorin's eyebrows quirked with interest.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well," she said giggling. "Some people we have encountered seem to think that we go around shooting tiny arrows at people, and others think that we strum languidly on harps all day long as if we have nothing better to do. Why they think these things I don't know, but it's a great source of humor among my people. However, they truly are great gifts for they will grow and change to meet the needs of our children, and one day Saraya will be a formidable archer and Theran a most accomplished musician and artist among their other talents."

Thorin scratched his head.

"But why a weapon for Saraya and a harp for Theran?" he asked. "Shouldn't it have been the other way around?"

Grace pursed her lips and put the babies to sleep. Then without a word she took Thorin by the hand and led him into their bedroom. She stood in front of him and started unbuttoning the front of her dress slowly as she smiled suggestively. His eyes widened as he took in her swelling curves, and he forgot to breathe.

"Perhaps it's a reminder of how fierce women can be, Thorin," she said, "and how wonderful a man's hands can be when he knows what to do with them."

Thorin immediately picked up his wife in his arms.

"I will never forget how fierce you are, my heart," he said as he nuzzled her neck and kissed the hollow of her throat, "but I think a reminder would be nice, because my hands are itching to do some wonderful things right now."


	49. What's a Bard to Do?

**Hi All! I decided that I couldn't let my people go quite yet, so I'm working more slowly to my conclusion. I hope you like this chapter and please review! I really enjoy all of your comments. They make my day!**

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**Chapter 49: What's a Bard to Do?**

Bard walked through the streets of Dale, his broad shoulders tense and his fists clenched. The day of the market fair and sporting competition was fast approaching, and he wanted his city at its best for the hordes of competitors, spectators, and surely merchants and traders who would come from all over Middle-earth. Various groups of residents bustled in the streets hanging colorful banners, weeding crab grass out of the spaces between cobble stones, and scrubbing windows and front walkways while others planted fresh flowers and removed horse manure from the wide granite brick streets.

"Commander!" he called to the captain of the city guard, "see that all uniforms are clean and polish and sharpen all swords and armaments."

The captain saluted immediately.

"At once, my lord," he said quickly and bowed before he hastened to the armory.

"Sentry!" Bard called out sharply, "Your watchmen are slouching, and the flags at the front gate are faded and need replacing. See to it!"

"Yes, milord," he said as he stood tall at attention. "It shall be remedied at once!"

Bard lifted his chin with a scowl on his handsome face.

"See that it is!" he snapped. Then he walked to the front gate and turned to look at his reborn city. All was new and richly rebuilt, but he shook his head and ran his hand over his face.

"Even at our best we will never compare with Erebor," he said to himself quietly as his eyes looked somberly at the shining white marble and granite city. Store fronts were neat and clean with window boxes full of flowers and brightly painted signs, and wonderful smells wafted from the various bakeries and sweets shops. Tall towers once again held huge, gleaming brass horns to signal celebration or warning, and the main government building was rebuilt on a larger scale with columned colonnades surrounding gardens open to the sky that reflected each season. Dignitaries and government officials could walk down the hall to the main entrance and view a spring garden designed by the elves with vines curling up delicate stone columns that resembled trees, lush and flowing weeping cherry and myrtle trees, and exquisite topiaries that looked like forest animals stepping out of the woods. The formal summer garden was a gift from Gondor and contained a profusion of fragrant roses, peonies, and sculpted hedges with a small white tree planted in the middle of a ring of white gardenias. The autumn garden from the residents of Dale featured large urns filled with colorful mums and various colored asters with several young maple trees offering vibrant gold, orange, and red leaves. In the center stood the proud flag of Dale and several ornate benches where visitors could rest and enjoy the crisp fair air.

The garden that received the most acclaim, however, was the intricately designed winter rock garden created by the finest craftsmen of Erebor, who recreated the city of Dale in miniature with precious gems and metals complete with a miniature fountain that was a replica of the one in the large market square. The city rested under a high arched canopy so snow could not obscure its beauty, and even at night, the tiny city glowed with miniature lights made from reflective gemstones. Together the gardens signified the alliances and friendships that gave the residents of Dale great hope and security, because in the months after Thorin's return and Smaug's demise, descendants of former residents and others eager to build a new life came flooding into Dale to set up shop and build a new community. Yes, there was much for which to be grateful.

"So much has come from Thorin's generosity," Bard thought to himself as his brows pinched together and his mouth turned down, "but we would not have such alliances and friends if not for Grace."

He walked unseeing past the large bubbling three-tiered fountain and pool in the cobble stone market square and into the large central park that lay adjacent. Instead of cobble stones, lush grass formed a welcome carpet for children and lovers, and informal gardens were dotted with pink, red, and white azalea bushes and the blue and pink flower balls of hydrangea bushes. Bard walked past banks of daisies and lilies until he came to a gazebo designed by the elves to look like several young trees bending in to make a roof with their leafy canopies. He sat down on a stone bench and sighed.

"What cause have I to be ungrateful?" he muttered to himself, and he ran his hands through his curling black hair. "Dale is more magnificent than ever, and we all worked hard to make it so. My people are contented and thriving. What more can a ruler ask?" But even as he said those words aloud he knew what was missing.

"Grace, loveliest Grace," he cried softly, "with you by my side I would want for nothing, and Dale not Erebor would be the envy of Middle-earth!"

He rubbed his eyes, refusing to let them fill with tears, and he shook his head at his lack of comprehension of why he was so bothered of late. His love for Grace was certainly much easier to bear before she and Thorin were joined because then it seemed that she belonged somehow as much to him and Legolas as to Thorin even though she wore his braids. The four of them were often together, eating together and working together on various projects, and they all knew that she loved each of them, and he basked in her sincere regard and generous affection. He saw Thorin not as a rival but as a kindred spirit, and they grew so close that Bard made a standing order that any important news about Erebor and its inhabitants be directly reported to him without delay. So when a sentry ran unannounced into the main council chamber to say that Thorin had challenged Faldor to mortal combat, Bard immediately raced out of the room, leaving befuddled advisors behind, and mounted the first horse he saw to head directly to Erebor.

"I would have fought to the death for her," he thought to himself, pressing his lips tightly together. "If necessary I would have left everything and taken her away and lived in the wastelands like a pauper if only to keep her safe."

He ruminated further, remembering the shock of her leaving so suddenly. Bard grieved deeply, but he had held on to the faint hope of her return and knew that he had to keep Thorin sane and whole in the meantime, offering his steadfast support and friendship.

"What a terrible time that was," he thought morosely as he rubbed his mustache, "but then she came back, so why am I not happy as I was?"

Then he remembered. Upon her return Thorin kept her jealously by his side. Although he had faith that her return was certain, he still needed frequent, no, constant assurance of her presence, which made visiting with others difficult if not impossible, Bard noted sourly. The easy and loving camaraderie of their foursome was now a twosome and two outsiders—or at least that is how he felt. There were no more private conversations or easy banter for Thorin was ever-present and always hungering for her attention.

Bard acknowledged justly that he would probably have felt the same for a time, and Thorin's passions and possessiveness were by then well known, so his actions were understandable given his nature. However, it was the change in Grace that truly altered everything. He saw it at the banquet celebrating her return. The mood was joyous and all were joking and eating with gusto. Thorin's rich laugh rang out often, and Grace beamed and looked glorious. She wore a rich cream gown of embroidered silk with a sweetheart neckline that showed off her long neck, smooth shoulders, and a hint of her incomparable curves, and at Thorin's request she wore her hair down without adornment. The diamond necklace that she wore on her wedding night circled her neck, and the dangling, pear-shaped diamond made it quite difficult for Bard to keep his eyes focused on her face. It did not help that Thorin often gazed at his wife's curves with a little smile on his face.

It was at one of those moments that Bard saw Grace notice her husband's glance. As Thorin then turned away to talk to Balin on his left, Bard saw her looking at Thorin with unmistakable desire in her eyes, a look that he had never seen on her face before. She twisted a long curl around her finger as she gazed lingeringly at her husband's hair, eyes, lips, and broad shoulders. Then she leaned against him and whispered something in his ear. His nostrils immediately flared, and he turned to stare heatedly at her, and his lips grazed her ear and jaw as he whispered his reply. Then she leaned back with a secret smile on her face. Bard was sure that she put her hand on Thorin's thigh because he started for a moment and then quirked a little smile of his own and arched an eyebrow at her while she raised her eyebrows and grinned in return. Bard looked down uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"But they are joined!" he said aloud. "I always knew that was coming, so why should that bother me?" But he knew deep down that it did because now they were lovers and shared a secret world and language that no one else could be part of. She was truly Thorin's now and only Thorin's and the announcement of her pregnancy only made it more concrete. Bard was happy for them, but when he saw her heavy with Thorin's children, he knew that any secret fantasy that somehow, some way she could some day be his was over, and with the birth of their children, he now mourned the lack of his own.

"Legolas said that there would be someone for us both," he grumbled, "but has _anyone_ _ever_ seen elven children? It doesn't seem that falling in love suits them. He certainly doesn't strike me as the kind to fall in love like a fool. I wonder if I'll ever see him nervous before a woman—or her father for that matter." And with that thought he chuckled, shook himself out of his self-pity, and looked up at the sky.

"I love Grace," he said, thinking that no one was listening and that he was talking only to himself, "but she rightly belongs to Thorin as Legolas said. Now I need to take his advice and let her go from my heart and be truly happy for them. If there is someone for me, I promise I will open my heart to her and not look back," and with that thought he took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows to continue getting his city ready for what was to come.

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**By the way, I wrote up a joke called Tattoo Artists if anyone hasn't read it yet and is interested in a laugh today. If you have please review. I was trying something different and want to know what you think.**


	50. Tangling with Thranduil and Thorin

**Chapter 50: Tangling With Thranduil and Thorin**

Meanwhile, in Mirkwood, the elves were practicing their skills for the various events they had entered while Legolas was in the throne room arguing with his father or rather talking at his father. Thranduil sat on his newly carved throne with his slim legs crossed staring slightly past his son as he drummed his long fingers on the arm rests, his hooded lids clearly betraying his frustration and boredom with the one-sided conversation.

"Just give me one good reason why you will not come to the games," Legolas said as he stood before his father, his legs apart and his arms crossed on his chest. The elf prince was usually an oasis of calm, but his tightly crossed arms betrayed his anger even as he kept his voice level and respectful.

"You are always sending your best wishes, but you do not really mean them, do you?" he asked as he clenched his jaw in disapproval.

Thranduil barely took the trouble of arching an eyebrow, and Legolas finally decided to confront him directly come what may.

"Are you afraid to go to Erebor, father?" he asked, knowing full well the consequences of asking such questions of the king, father to him though he was. "Are you too embarrassed to face Thorin who saved your life or are you afraid of Lady Grace who humbled you in your own throne room?"

Thranduil leapt from his throne with feline grace and unsheathed a sword that Legolas met with his own.

"How _dare_ you say that I am a coward!" the king shouted as their blades met with a clash and flash of sparks. Father and son stood toe to toe, but Legolas would not back down, and a flicker of Thranduil's eyes revealed the truth. His son nodded, pushed away, and stepped back.

"I am right, father," he said as he sheathed his sword and looked up calmly. "Do not trouble to deny it. Now ask yourself if this is what you want our enemies to know. They know that you are choosing to stand alone and that makes us all vulnerable. Our own people are now beginning to question why we have no formal alliance with Erebor and Dale since they all have seen the benefits of my friendships with Thorin and Bard. They know you have refused their invitations, and they are now openly asking why."

Legolas' upper lip curled as he stared down his father who slowly sheathed his sword and looked appraisingly at his son.

"And I think you should know that the answers they are coming to are not very flattering," he said in clipped tones.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed and burned as he stared at Legolas, but then he took a deep breath and turned with a smirk and walked up to his throne and sat down.

"I sent Thorin the doors for Erebor at no small expense, Legolas," he said flicking a piece of lint from his light blue silk robes. "Certainly that was not nothing."

Legolas' lips twisted in disdain.

"It was my idea, father," he said, "and you were paid more than handsomely."

"Still," Thranduil said. Then he tossed his long blond hair aside, and his mouth scrunched as if he had smelled an orc. "You are now quite close to these dwarves, Legolas, and they are beneath you, beneath us. They are not to be trusted, nor are men who are so fickle as to change alliances on a whim."

"Truly, father?" Legolas countered. "Even after I and my legion fought Bolg and the orcs of Moria with the dwarves and men together at the cost of our lives? Even after Thorin acted to save your life, which was never in danger by the way."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he asked heatedly.

Legolas took a deep breath and kept his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"I knew what Lady Grace had prepared to do because we came up with the plan together," he said as he lifted his chin and kept his eyes on his father.

"What?" Thranduil roared as he stood. "You knew and did nothing to stop it?"

"Stop it?" Legolas shouted, finally losing his temper. "I encouraged it and watched from behind the screen ready to come to her aid if need be. You deserved everything that happened to you because of your pride and arrogance! Evil is despoiling our home and everything we love while you sit and ignore the truth. If this is the king you have become then you do not deserve a throne to sit on!"

The room fell deathly silent as if it held its breath, too afraid lest the slightest sound tip the balance. Legolas had wisely asked all guards to leave before he talked with this father because although he hoped these words would not need to be said, he would if the time came and it had.

Thranduil's eyes widened and his mouth hung open as though he lost the use of it and words refused to pass his lips. Legolas stood resolutely, confident in knowing that he was in the right but prepared to lose all in spite of it.

The elf king stared at his son as though he had never seen him before, and he started to tremble. He backed away and stumbled as he fell against his throne and sat down hard on the lower step.

"Ada!" Legolas said as he reached out a hand, but Thranduil shook his head as he held up his own.

"Has it come to this?" he asked quietly as much to himself as his son, "betrayed by my very flesh and blood?"

Legolas quickly knelt before him.

"No, father," he said gently, "but I want, we all want the father and king you used to be. Forgive me, but you have changed so much since mother died; it has been as if your heart died with her. You have become cold and cruel to your family, your people, and to those who were and even now could be your friends."

Thranduil's face softened at the thought of his wife, but he scowled thinking that Thorin Oakenshield and Lady Grace would never be his friends.

"What has been done cannot be undone," he muttered.

"No," Legolas agreed, "but it can be forgiven." Then he gently took his father's hand and let him see all that Grace had shown him. Thranduil tried to pull away, but Legolas refused to let go and allowed the love and compassion that Grace had shown him flow into his father. Thranduil tried to resist, but he could not stop the building wave of joy and mercy that flooded his closely guarded heart. He started shaking and raised his head as tears filled his eyes and his chin started to tremble. Then he started sobbing as the years of pain and rage at the early death of his beloved wife finally found release. Legolas quietly waited while his father cried his anger away. Then Thranduil was silent for a long time, but finally he looked up at his son with remorse and regret.

"Forgive me, my boy," he said brokenly, and Legolas threw himself into his father's open arms with a cry. "Forgive me for forgetting how much I love you and my people. Forgive me for forgetting what it means to be a father and a king."

Then they talked long into the afternoon and found much healing in each other's company.

"But I cannot see Thorin ever welcoming me at Erebor after I have wronged him and his people so much," Thranduil said shaking his head.

Legolas smiled, and his blue eyes lit with joy as he saw that finally old wounds would be healed and records of wrongs destroyed.

"Father, those invitations were sincere," he said, "and Lady Grace, as you have felt, holds no grudge. She did what she did for Thorin, but she would eagerly welcome you into her heart and not just because she is my friend."

Thranduil frowned as he considered Legolas' words and then looked at his son shrewdly and put his hand on his shoulder.

"But you feel much more than that for her, my son," he said as his brows drew together and his lips pressed into a thin line.

The elf prince looked down and nodded.

"I see your concern for me, but I am well, father," he said. "I love her, but she has always been Thorin's, and I am content to be her friend. She gives me hope that good will prevail in the end, and I am honored to know her. As for my feelings, I trust that when my own true one comes, my heart will be touched in an even greater way."

Then he looked askance at his father and saw his fears about approaching Thorin and his wife, and he smirked and decided to wield his final weapon.

"And they have two beautiful infants," he said well knowing Thranduil's long-hidden weakness for young children. "How long has it been since you've held a baby?"

* * *

Grace came upon her husband in their chambers standing as still as a statue holding a letter in his hand. It was as if Thorin stood frozen in a moment in time. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his mouth was open, and one hand held a letter while the other was in mid-air and cupped, as if on its way to cover his mouth.

"Thorin?" Grace asked, and she walked around him as he stood unmoving. She put her hands on her hips. "Thorin?" No answer. "Thorin!" she yelled, and she grabbed his arm. At that he broke out of his trance and looked at her stunned.

"He's coming to the games," he said softly, and he blinked twice. "I don't believe it."

"Who?" Grace asked. Thorin held out the letter. She read it and her eyes widened.

"Legolas did it," she said and clenched one fist in triumph.

"Did what?" Thorin asked in confusion.

"Convinced his father to come, of course," she said smiling wider.

Thorin frowned.

"I don't recall him being invited," he said.

Grace laughed.

"Of course he was invited," she said very happy with herself. "Long ago you put me in charge of inviting people to official functions, and I've always invited him."

Thorin's face darkened.

"You mean to tell me that you've invited Thranduil to everything?" he asked angrily, "and that he refused every one until now?"

Thorin began pacing and with each step he stoked his anger until it passed all reason.

"He must have laughed at us all this time, Grace!" he shouted finally. "I can see him throwing our invitations into the fire and cackling at what simpletons we are for thinking he might grace us with his royal presence. What fools you've made of us! I can't believe you did something so stupid!"

Grace's eyes flamed at first, but then the fire in her eyes died, and she looked at her seething husband sadly.

"Well?" he asked sarcastically. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

When she spoke she kept her voice quiet though every word was filled to the brim with righteous indignation.

"You will not speak to me this way, Thorin Oakenshield," she said as she advanced on him like a crashing wave. "Do you still understand nothing about mercy or are you putting yourself up as judge of who is deserving? I AM Grace and grace is what I will give and it goes most of all to those who least deserve it. Do you know nothing of Thranduil, your old ally, or what he was like before his wife died? Do you remember what you were like when I went home? What if I never came back? What kind of king would you have become?" and then without another word she swept out of their chambers and left Thorin standing there stunned with much to ponder.

For the next several hours Grace avoided him, wanting to give him time to think through what she said, but he soon sought her out without success, and Thorin finally threw up his hands in frustration after he ran into Balin outside his quarters.

"Where is she?" he asked glumly as his mouth turned downward. His shoulders slumped, and he ran his hands over his face. "I have been looking for her all over Erebor, but I can't find her."

Balin tilted his head as he looked at Thorin and tapped his finger against his mouth.

"Yes, I heard that," Balin said. "What seems to be the trouble?"

Thorin grimaced as he cast his eyes around, not quite willing yet to explain. Then he forced himself.

"I made a fool out of myself again, Balin," he said after an uncomfortable moment, "and I need your help. Can we talk in your chambers?"

Balin glanced at the door and heartily said, "Of course, laddie, step right in."

Thorin told Balin what had happened and Grace's response, and he sighed.

"I knew right away that she was right and that it was my cursed pride again," he said sadly. "I just don't think like she does. It never occurred to me that if Grace hadn't come back I might have become just like him. I suppose too I was angry and jealous that she and Legolas were doing something together that I didn't know about, but if she had come to me I would never have allowed it, so I see why she didn't."

Thorin looked up in despair.

"She won't let me find her and apologize, Balin," he said. "I've looked for her all over Erebor, but she is too quick for me. She is too _good_ for me."

Balin scratched his head and stroked his beard as he closed his eyes to think.

"Well, laddie," he said seriously. "You certainly were in the wrong in what you said, but she was in the wrong not to tell you from the start. We dwarves are people of action and we don't give up our grudges easily. That's just our nature, so you can't be too hard on yourself there. Not a one of us likes or trusts Thranduil for good reason and don't you forget that. Our Gracie though has a gift to pull the good out of people if there is any and help them be their best selves, and that you can't deny either. You both just need to trust each other more. The learning continues I think."

Then Balin chuckled.

"She doesn't understand yet that we dwarves make up our minds quickly," he said, "so she probably thinks she is being helpful by giving you time to think without her around."

Both dwarves then stood.

"Don't fret, Thorin," Balin said cheerfully, "I'm sure she'll be home soon."

Thorin nodded somberly and left. Then Balin turned around as Grace came out of the other room.

"Did you hear every word, Gracie?" he asked. She nodded, her face sad. "Then you know what to do."

As she turned to leave, Balin took her arm. "Lass, I know you meant well," he said, "but don't ever hide from him again. You may need to leave to give him time to think, but when he comes looking for you run to him. Don't forget that you are one."

Grace kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Balin," she said. "I love you very much." Then she left him at the door with a tear in his eye.

"I love you too, Gracie," he whispered. "I love you both."

* * *

Thorin walked into their chambers to find Grace standing in the solarium waiting for him. They stood apart looking at each other until Thorin opened his arms and Grace ran into them. He crushed her to him and kissed her face.

"I am sorry, Grace, for what I said to you. I was so wrong," Thorin said as his deep voice cracked. "Forgive me. I can't bear us apart."

"I'm sorry as well, Thorin," she said, "for not coming to you when you called and for not telling you what I was doing from the beginning."

Thorin sat down and pulled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply.

"Nothing is right if we aren't," he said. "I couldn't focus on anything else except finding you and making things right."

Grace ran her fingers through his hair at his temples and he inhaled contentedly.

"I should have told you, Thorin, but I didn't think you would trust me in this," she said.

He sighed. "To my shame I wouldn't have," he said, "but if you will explain to me your reasoning and help me understand, then it will be easier for me, my heart. We just need to talk more."

Grace kissed his cheek and snuggled in his arms that wrapped tightly around her.

"Even better," she said, "I will show you," and she took Thorin's hand and they closed their eyes, and he saw what she learned from Legolas when they first met in Mirkwood. He saw Legolas as a little child being picked up and kissed by Thranduil as a beautiful and elegant woman joined them. She was tall and slim with merry eyes and she hugged her husband from behind as he looked back with a grin. The whole family hugged each other tightly as they all laughed with joy. Thorin looked on in wonder as he saw Thranduil nuzzle his son's fat cheek and sigh with peace and satisfaction. Then he saw Legolas as a boy sneaking out of bed and watching his parents dancing from behind a bush. His father wore a green silk tunic, and he stroked his wife's face as he danced with her slowly in a wooded glade. His mother was radiant in a yellow gown that accentuated her honey-blond hair. Thranduil clearly adored his wife, and he held her tenderly as they moved together slowly.

"You hold my heart in your hands," he said to her as she smiled and kissed his cheek. Then he stopped dancing and looked at her anxiously. "I don't think I could go on without you," he said rapidly, as though he had to get the words out before they choked him. "You don't know, my love, how much my life entwines with yours. If yours, if yours should end..." His wife stopped him with a lingering kiss.

"My husband and king, we have thousands of years to love and laugh, and live happily with our boy," she said. "There is nothing to fear."

Thorin gasped at how he had said nearly the very same things to Grace. Then the scene changed and he heard Legolas a little older sobbing with his knees pulled under his chin and his father shouting, "No! NO! That can't be! She can't be dead! No! I won't believe it! She promised! She PROMISED!"

Then Thorin saw Thranduil screaming at the stars and raging at the gods throughout the night, but as he turned away in the morning a mask of indifference and coldness fell over his face and he walked by his grieving son without a glance.

Tears wet the corners of Thorin's eyes as he looked somberly at Grace. She gently wiped them away with her thumbs.

"I didn't know," he said quietly.

"From now on I will show you what I see," Grace said tenderly, "and then we will decide together what to do."

"Agreed," Thorin said, "and now we will prepare to host two kings."

* * *

**I wrote this scene very quickly, and I've reposted it because I found a bunch of errors, but if you all find any more, please let me know! Oh, and please review! Thanks bunches!**


	51. Market Fair

**You all may want to reread the previous chapter because I still wasn't happy with it and reposted a second time. Or does this Web site announce reposts? Anyway, I still have my qualms about that chapter and this one as well, but I'm winding up for some verrrrry interesting competitions. Stay tuned and please review! I'm having surgery soon (nothing major but still a bummer), so I could use some encouragement today!**

* * *

**Market fair**

Bard stood tall with his arms crossed over his chest and grinned as he looked at his city that was transformed by the small army of merchants, traders, and buyers that had set up stalls and booths in every available space. The fair would open tomorrow, and all was finally in order after chaos had descended two days prior. Gaily colored banners flew advertising everything from silks to swords, and besides the usual goods were harps and other musical instruments, kites and children's toys, jewelry from the reopened mines of Erebor, artworks from all over Middle-earth, and food stalls for any taste and appetite. Bard nodded, smiling that his city would do itself proud … now only if its citizens could win some contests ….

"The list, my lord," said one of his advisors, a middle-aged man from Lake-town who had been one of the few he trusted. When Bard rebuilt Dale, Oren and his family came to join in the work and stayed at Bard's request.

"I think you'll find it fair, my lord," he said smiling.

When Grace announced the games, Bard, Legolas, and Thorin worked together to make sure that there were events suited for all races, knowing that each had to have its share of victors to make the event a success. Men and dwarves could never compete with the elves in the long bow obstacle course, but the elves would never enter the drarven short-bow mounted challenge. Men would have an advantage in the tree-trunk tossing and other sports peculiar to their customs, while other events were equal to all comers. At Thorin's request there were also arm-wrestling, ale-chugging, and distance-spitting contests open to both genders. He said that they would not only help some of his dwarves find wives but also provide stories for years to come.

"I have to see at least a few of those," Bard thought as he stroked his mustache and chuckled. He looked down the list to see those from Dale who entered, and he smiled to see that his city was well-represented in many events. He arched an eyebrow and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth to see that Oren himself had entered the tree-trunk toss. Then he looked down further not recognizing a number of names, and he turned to Oren with raised eyebrows.

"I am not sure who they are, my lord," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "but we do have new settlers on the outskirts of town, and some may be from the farms."

Bard looked again at the list and saw that some had entered the archery contests. He smiled, confident of his own skill, and handed the list back to Oren.

"We will do well tomorrow," he thought with a gleam in his eyes.

A few miles away at Erebor, dwarves were polishing and sharpening their swords and axes while a number of others were brushing up on their arm-wrestling and distance-spitting skills. Thorin and Grace walked by and stopped to watch the dwarves at the spitting line and various tables. Her eyes were large, and she leaned forward with her mouth slightly open while Thorin's lips twisted and his seldom-seen dimples appeared.

"They really are serious about this, aren't they?" she asked as she turned to Thorin. Muscles were bulging, curses were flying, and sweat was pouring as the dwarves heaved and groaned. A few of them cast looks their way and nodded respectfully only to have their opponents take advantage of their distraction.

"Let's leave, my heart," he said with a chuckle. "We don't want to be blamed if they aren't ready." Then he caught her eyes and held them. "Besides, we have something we must do now."

They walked away as a loud curse in Khuzdul rang out at another table.

"No Bofur," Gloin said with a glower after he had bested him three times in a row. "You can't adjust your grip after you've clapped hands. You have to hold your hand just so, so that going into it you're better positioned."

Bofur looked askance and scratched his head.

"Aye," he said as he looked intently at Gloin's wrist position, "I see that, but what if she comes into it with the same grip? Our women have prepared ever since the games were announced."

Gloin looked around carefully, his small brown eyes darting to and fro. Then he put his forefinger to his nose.

"You must promise me," he said as his eyes bore into Bofur's, "that you will never tell anyone of my secret."

Bofur looked away for a moment and Gloin grabbed his chin and swiveled his gaze.

"No one!" he said as his freshly fluffed beard and mustache muffled his words slightly. "If the women find out about this there'll be no more joinings at Erebor, and you're a talker, Bofur. No one!"

Bofur's eyes popped open, and he gave Gloin his full attention and nodded eagerly.

"All right then lad," Gloin said with his hand on his back. "Let's go practice this away from prying eyes," and they hurried away.

Thorin and Grace walked to the stables and saddled Pearl and Steel. Thorin looked over at Grace, and his head dropped, and she walked over and put her hand on his.

"I may be doing what _is_ right, my heart," he thought to her as he stared unfocused at the wall, "but it doesn't _feel_ right." She took his chin in her hand and saw his cheek twitch.

"This will be hard," she agreed as she stroked his cheek, "but remember it will be most unpleasant for him."

Then they mounted Pearl and Steel and headed out on the woodland road. Two elves met them several miles away. Thorin and Grace dismounted and Legolas stepped forward to embrace them.

"How is he?" Grace asked silently.

"Worried," Legolas replied gravely, and Grace squeezed his fingers.

Thorin glanced at her and then stepped forward to where Thranduil was waiting. He was not wearing his crown or swirling robes, but a green and brown leather outfit similar to Legolas. Only a pin of a tree made of gold and emeralds distinguished him.

The elven king held himself rigid, and his hands picked at the hem of his tunic. As Thorin stepped forward, Thranduil bowed low and Thorin reciprocated.

"My lord, Thorin," he said stiffly.

"My lord, Thranduil," Thorin replied quietly.

Then they stood casting their eyes on everything and anything but each other before Thranduil clasped his hands together and began to speak.

"There are no words to say to make up for how I have wronged you and your people," he said in a low voice as he trained his eyes on the ground at Thorin's feet. "I was callous of your suffering and unwilling to come to the help of an ally. I broke our treaty of mutual help, but more than that I let your people suffer not just once but for years without ever coming to their aid, and then I took you and your people hostage besides. I do not ask for your forgiveness for what I have done is beyond that, but I do want you to know that I have finally come to my senses"—his voice broke and Grace heard Legolas say "Ada!" under his breath—"and I will forever regret my actions and inaction."

Thorin stood there, his jaw slack and eyes wide. Legolas arranged this meeting so Thranduil could apologize, but Thorin doubted he would ever hear it. He knew though that they needed to meet before the games began so when Thranduil came he would be welcome. He looked carefully at Legolas, whose eyes filled with tears, and then at Grace who beamed a glorious smile at him and, finally, he turned to his former enemy.

"I will not deny, Thranduil," he said seriously as the elven king felt the heat of Thorin's voice and fierce eyes glaring at him, "that I harbored bitter anger toward you and all your people for your failure to help us in our most desperate hour and that I would easily have killed you not long ago." Then his voice softened. "But my wife showed me what happened to you, and a similar experience of my own helped me understand you better."

Thranduil immediately looked up, and his brows pinched together as he stared at Grace and then at Legolas. Then one eye squinted as if he was looking at the sun as he forced himself to look Thorin in the face. He saw the dwarf king looking back at him somberly without anger or condemnation. Then Thorin stepped forward and held out his hand.

"As king of Erebor, I do forgive you, Thranduil," he said firmly, "We dwarves do not give up our grudges easily, and I have some work to do to prepare my people to receive you, but if your regret is genuine and your actions bear it out, I will welcome you to Erebor as a neighbor and friend."

Thranduil eyes lit, and his mouth curved into a genuine smile. He stepped forward, took Thorin's hand with both of his, and shook it eagerly.

"I thank you," he said humbly. "It takes a truly great king to show such mercy to an enemy, and that I was to you though you were never to me. I look forward to our people becoming friends."

Then he turned to Grace and bowed low before her. She presented her hand and as he stood and took it they closed their eyes, and she showed him her heart, her husband's, and his son's. Tears began streaming down his cheeks as he felt Thorin's agony and Legolas' sorrow, and his wrapped his free arm tightly around his stomach as his chest began to heave with silent pain. Then Grace motioned to Legolas and Thorin, and they put their hands on hers. Mercy, love, and compassion flowed through them, and wounds, left festering for decades and centuries, started healing at last.

Thranduil opened his eyes and wiped them with his sleeve. He looked at Grace with profound respect and admiration while Thorin took a deep breath and cleared his throat. Legolas turned away as he too had to regain his composure.

"I am forever indebted to you, my lady," Thranduil said reverently, and he carefully took her hand and kissed it gently. "Your people and your gifts are beyond compare. I must believe that you came to help us."

"So it seems," Thorin said with a small smile as he took Grace's hand.

Then Legolas stepped forward and his father embraced him strongly.

"I swear that I will not abandon you again, son," he said. "You are firmly in my heart, and I will never let you go." Legolas nodded as he struggled to keep his bearing. Then Thorin frowned and stroked his beard.

"Now how do I ever help my people understand?" he asked as he rubbed the furrow in his brow.

Grace linked her arm with his and nodded decisively.

"I know a way," she said. Then she frowned. "But it will require, my king, your doing something you've never done before."


	52. The Last Secret

**Chapter 52: The Last Secret**

Back at Erebor, Thorin paced in their chambers with his hands behind his back while Grace watched with carefully concealed amusement.

"He's so stubborn," she thought to herself, "but endearing at the same time." Her attention wandered to all the ways she loved him, and she barely managed to snap to attention when Thorin stopped pacing and turned toward her.

"No!" he said as he faced her squarely. "Absolutely not! I will not do this, Grace! It's too … too…"

"Revealing?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, revealing," he replied as his forefinger stabbed the air. "Kings do not show their feelings like this to others." He looked at her as she sat perched on the corner of their bed, one hand folded on top of the other, and he caught the glimmer of amusement faint though it was.

"Do not laugh at me!" he said through his teeth while he put his hands on his hips and tapped his fingers against his belt.

At that she stood.

"Thorin, my love," she said softly. "You did this with Legolas and Thranduil. Why not with your council so they can see what happened? Do you have more trust in Thranduil?"

Thorin turned and huffed.

"I don't live with Thranduil," he said hotly, "and I don't lead him. Besides, it was necessary so I could believe him."

Grace leaned against one of the four-posters and twirled her hair around her finger.

"So your concern is one of lost respect?" she asked. "Is that it?"

He looked down and nodded without saying anything. Then she slipped off the bed and walked around him to hug him from behind. He stiffened for a moment and then put his arms over hers and hugged them to himself.

"I am a king and warrior, my heart," he said softly. "I knew how lost I was without you, but I hid it from everyone and carried on. Later on, I told Dwalin and Balin some of what I felt, but for everyone to know everything I …," and he shook his head not able to continue.

Grace pulled back and walked around to face him.

"I would never do anything to make you lose respect in front of your people, Thorin," she said seriously as she held his face, "and I am not asking you to do that now. I believe that they need to see what happened to both of you, so that they would understand your reasoning and support you in this, but you should know that you hid nothing from no one, and members of your council even met to discuss what to do to help you."

Thorin's head reared up, and he stared into her eyes.

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "Balin and Dwalin met with Kili and Fili after I left and they saw what you were becoming. You do not give them enough credit, Thorin. They aren't loyal to you because of your strengths—great though they are—they're loyal because they love you. After they talked they decided to help you shoulder your burdens and love and support you no matter how long it took."

Thorin thought back to that unbearable time and remembered Kili and Fili stepping up and taking on new responsibilities. Then he remembered Dwalin deciding he needed more weapons practice and asking Thorin to spar with him and Balin making sure he ate. A tear slowly made its way down his cheek.

Grace gently kissed him, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with fiery need. After leaving both gasping for air, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I will do what is necessary," he said heavily, and he encircled her waist and linked his fingers behind her back, "but you understand that their knowing some of what I felt won't make sharing it with them easier."

She looked at him soberly before she answered.

"If it helps you," she whispered, "I will share what none of you know."

Time stopped while he stared at her, trying to divine what she kept from him. She held his fierce gaze for a moment before hers faltered, and she looked away.

"No," she said hastily, "forget what I said. It will help no one." She quickly disengaged from him and tried to step back, but he stopped her and held her by her shoulders.

"What are you hiding from me?" he asked urgently while searching her eyes. She shook her head and breathed faster. He grabbed her hand and put it on his face.

"Show me!" he demanded. She closed her mind to him but before she shut him out entirely he heard an ear-shattering cry of grief echo in his head. Dropping to his knees, he cried out and covered his ears. Grace immediately knelt beside him.

"Thorin, my love, did I hurt you?" she asked. She bit her lip while she stroked his hair. He stared at her unseeing and shook his head. Then he held her by her elbows.

"I was so happy to see you again, my heart," he said. He swallowed hard as he realized one thing he overlooked in his joy at her return. "I never thought, I never thought to ask what happened to _you_ while you were away."

Thorin lit a fire though the air was warm because Grace started shivering. Then he took her by the hand and pulled her down to sit with him on the fur rug before the hearth.

"I certainly hope this wasn't one of Beorn's friends," she said jokingly as she fingered the bearskin rug. She looked up to see Thorin gazing steadily at her and she grimaced.

"Perhaps we can talk after we've eaten, Thorin," she said as she straightened and cast her eyes around the room. "I believe the evening meal time is approaching, and we don't want to keep the council waiting. Besides, I think I hear the children up from their nap." She started to rise, but he reached out wordlessly and pulled her down.

"No," he said, and he steepled his fingers under his chin and waited.

Grace wrung her hands in her lap and looked around the room.

"Please," she said after several quiet minutes. "Please. I shouldn't have said that. I know it sounds unfair, but I don't want to hurt you."

Thorin took a deep breath.

"You may, my heart," he said, "but that doesn't mean I'm not strong enough to bear it. You don't give me enough credit either. You want me to have the courage to show my pain, yet you doubt that I have enough to understand yours. This is _your_ lesson in trust."

Then he reached for her hands, and they closed their eyes.

* * *

At first, all Thorin saw was a drifting mist. Grace stood beside him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"I'm not yet sure how to show you," she said. "Our realm is difficult to explain."

"Present all as it was the day you left," he said while he widened his stance slightly like he was preparing for battle. She held tightly to his hand, and they turned to watch the scene unfold.

The mist cleared and Grace stood in her armor and circlet before her Father's throne, listing reasons to return in a strong but respectful voice. She was in a vast room made of solid gold, and the walls flashed with gemstone panels. The room was so large and the ceiling so high that Thorin could not see length or height of it. The throne itself was made of solid crystal and lit from within with a light that almost obscured her Father from view. In fact, there was so much light it was difficult to see anything clearly. She was not alone and others moved around her and almost seemed to move through her, and he heard the sounds of a multitude of voices overlapping and singing, turning all of it to gibberish. The voices and images slowly reduced leaving two voices and two figures.

"My dear Saraya," her Father said kindly, "you do not know what you ask. You have appeared before me again and again seeking to return, but you do not realize what you are asking or the danger it presents to you."

She stood with her lips slightly parted and a confused expression on her face though she was not cowed in the slightest.

"I humbly ask you to help me understand, Father," she said. "I was in a body like them and experienced a life similar to theirs. Why would going back now be dangerous for me? I will always obey your will, and if you command me to stay I will without question, but you have not, so I believe that you are allowing me to continue my petitions for some other purpose."

Her Father chuckled, and Thorin had to smile in spite of his fears.

"You are correct, Saraya," he said, "I allowed this because I wanted to test your determination, but my concerns are greater than that. You were ignorant of your identity and separated from us. Now we are together and you experience my presence and favor without limitation. If you decide to go back you must do so with all the boundaries of mortality, one being the loss of those you love."

She shook her head and peered at the ground as she digested this information. Grace turned to Thorin.

"Do you understand what this implies?" she asked. Thorin shook his head, mirroring her other self.

"If you were blind all your life and suddenly could see would you willingly return to blindness?" her Father asked. She shook her head. Slowly, her Father turned his head to where Grace and Thorin stood watching. "Or would you voluntarily forego loving and joining with your wife for the rest of your life after having experienced such bliss?" Thorin involuntarily shook his head. Her Father smiled and nodded. "You too must understand Thorin, my son."

Thorin's grip on her hand increased painfully.

"Now I know why she hesitated, but I will not fail her," he thought, and he moved closer and put his arm around her. Her Father smiled, inclined his head, and turned back to the Grace standing before him.

"Now that you know what it is like to live in my presence again, my child, you must experience its loss and be bounded by the mortality you must embrace so that you are certain you can bear up joyfully under it," he said seriously. "Regret is the poison of life."

Grace nodded and stood rigid.

"Will I be completely cut off from you, Father?" she asked timidly.

He held out his hand, and she walked up to the throne. Thorin's eyebrows rose and his eyes widened to see her climb into her Father's lap, but she still looked the size of a small child in his arms.

"My wonderful child," he said soothingly, "you will never be cut off from me, but mortality is a different existence, and I want you certain for your sake."

Her eyes shined as she looked up at him. "I love you with all my heart, Father," she said, "and my kin as myself."

He hugged her close. "I know," he said. "I do not doubt your devotion." Then he let her go.

"Know this, Saraya," he said firmly. "I will not allow you to return unless you are able to without regret."

She lifted her chin and nodded slightly at her Father. "I understand," she said. Then she tensed and clenched her fists. "Good bye Father and kin. I hear your voices, and I know you love me well." Then she closed her eyes.

She opened them again in a realm of one with her own natural glow being the only illumination, and the shock ripped an agonized scream from her throat before she dropped sobbing into fetal position. She rocked back and forth, trying to keep her complete loneliness from driving her insane. Thorin hugged Grace close while tears coursed down her face.

"I never knew what you had to go through to come back to me, my heart," he said slowly. "At least I had my men and nephews while you were alone."

He hugged her tighter and kissed her face.

"My heart," he said tenderly, "my very heart."

They looked back at Grace on the ground. An eternity seemed to pass before she stopped whimpering. Then she reached out her arms and saw nothing and touched nothing. She called out but no one answered.

"What do I do?" she asked herself frantically. "What do I do? I have never been alone before, truly alone." She put her hands over her face, curled up into a ball, and lay there listening to the sound of her breathing.

"I will think of Thorin," she whispered to herself, "and my people at Erebor. He is suffering as much as I. We are still one."

She recounted all the moments she treasured on Middle-earth and talked to herself about the people who became her friends and family. Thinking about Balin, she smiled and sniffled back her tears. She sat up recalling the friendship and nobility of Bard and Legolas, and she stood as she listed all the reasons why she loved Thorin. Her voice grew in power and strength as she spoke of her love for him.

Suddenly, she lifted her arms into the blackness around her and started singing joyfully of her husband and life on Middle-earth and all the good she hoped to bring to her people.

"I will not be away forever, Father," she said as she smiled into the dark, "and I will never stop loving you and spending time with you even though it will be different. I'm ready to go back, and I promise I won't regret it."

Suddenly, two lights started growing larger in front of her, and Addarion and Tirius appeared. The three of them hugged tightly, and Addarion took her by the shoulder.

"Prepare for battle, Saraya," he said, "Erebor is at war."

* * *

Thorin and Grace opened their eyes, and he quickly took her in his arms.

"I will never, never stop being grateful for you, my heart," he said thickly, "but you need not share this again. You have done enough."

He held her quietly until she felt better, and then they heard the welcome cries of their hungry children. She insisted on feeding them herself and not having a wet-nurse as royal protocol suggested. Carrying them to her, he felt a surge of fierce devotion and protectiveness sweep through him. He kissed Grace on the neck and stroked the soft heads of his son and daughter. After she was done nursing, they walked hand in hand to the council chamber.

"Are you ready, Thorin?" she asked at the door.

He kissed her hand and straightened.

"Yes," he said and pushed the door open.

His twelve advisors had finished their meal, and there was plenty of food left though Thorin and Grace were not hungry. The group stood as they walked in, and several advisors looked askance when they saw the queen. Thorin motioned for them to sit down and looked at each before he spoke. Balin smiled and winked at Grace.

"I asked the queen to join me tonight because I want to tell you all that we invited Thranduil of Mirkwood to the games as our guest and he has accepted," Thorin said. There was silence before the room erupted in outrage. Balin and Dwalin sat silently while Kili and Fili stared open-mouthed. Gloin stood and was about to curse when he caught Balin's glare and promptly sat down. Thorin watched the scene calmly while Grace looked at Balin and took comfort from his quiet encouragement.

Finally, an advisor named Draine stood and requested to speak.

"My lord and lady," he said, "I say this is an insult! How dare he who failed to help us now profit from our prosperity and play himself off as some great benefactor. Aye, he deserves the ax for what he did, not welcome!"

A number of advisors banged their mugs on the table in agreement. Thorin held out his hands, and the room stilled.

"I understand," he said, "and not long ago I would have been the first to swing the ax if not for what I learned from the queen."

All eyes turned to Grace, and a few newer advisors grumbled about her influence over Thorin. At that Balin stood and his eyes flashed.

"Do I hear grumbling?" he asked indignantly. "After what she and her kin did to save our king and kingdom?" He shook his fists at the room. "I'll have the head of anyone who speaks against her! I trust them and I'm sure that they have good reasons for what they're doing, so shut it and listen before I knock heads!" Then he sat down with a plop.

"Aye, brother," Dwalin muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, "truer words were never spoken."

Thorin smiled and then grew somber.

"Before Smaug we had a long alliance with Thranduil and his people," he said slowly. "It was an alliance on paper but not in the heart, and no alliance can stand when tested when those who made it aren't friends. We've all seen the elaborate signatures on treaties in our records room, some even done with fussy flourishes, but they aren't worth anything by themselves. We think that we are so different from the elves, but we aren't, and this I learned from my wife."

He took a deep breath and reached for Grace's hand.

"You all remember what I was like when Grace left," he said softly. All heads dropped, and Dwalin slowly exhaled. "What was Erebor like in those days, and what kind of king might I have become if I were to live hundreds of years ruling in that fashion?"

Fili whistled under his breath, and Thorin looked at him and nodded.

"That is what happened to Thranduil, and I ask you now to see what I have seen," he said. "Although I could command your loyalty and obedience, I want you to freely agree to this, but if you still cannot after what the queen shows you I will accept your decision without blame."

First they saw Thranduil's apology, then Thorin shared his grief, and Grace shared Thranduil's ... lastly, she shared her own.

"No, Grace!" Thorin said when he opened his eyes and turned to her. "That wasn't needed."

She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Yes, it was," she said. "Now they will not doubt my loyalty or position with you."

They turned back and saw the dwarves standing open-mouthed in astonishment. For a moment, Thorin feared the worst had happened and that he had lost all respect in their eyes, but then Fili, Kili, Gloin, and Balin left their places and stood beside Grace, and Dwalin walked over, cleared his throat, and put his heavy hand on Thorin's shoulder.

"I am honored, my lord," he said roughly, "to have you as my king." Then he bowed to Grace. "And you as my queen. No one has ever loved us more."

Then he turned to the rest and boomed, "And if you lot don't see what you have in them, you aren't fit to be in this room!"

* * *

Later that night, Thorin heaved a relieved sigh and pulled his wife into his arms.

"Thank Durin they're all with us," he said. "That will make introducing Thranduil go much more smoothly. I'm so glad this day is over, my heart. We need to do something enjoyable tomorrow before we go through this again."

Grace snuggled in his arms and yawned.

"Well, the market fair opens in the morning," she said sleepily, "and the games don't start until the afternoon, so can we go and see what's there? I've never been to a fair before."

Thorin groaned.

"Shopping?" he asked in dismay. "You want to go shopping? I can always bring merchants here if you need something."

She pulled away to look at his unhappy face.

"The women tell that it's not about needing something but about enjoying the excitement and atmosphere of the event," she said.

He smiled and kissed her on the forehead, and they lay down to sleep.

"Very well," he said, "but I thought we've had enough excitement already."


	53. Boys and Their Toys

**Hi all, I wonder if anyone caught the inside joke in the last chapter where Thorin referred to fussy signatures. That was a dig at my other Thorin in "Tattoo Artists." Anyway, I thought it was fun to link the two. Now a shout out to Karkitty for her many kind words. Chile is a fantastic country. All that beach front! Now please register so I can talk to you properly. Also, thanks to my unknown reader from the Aland Islands for the geography lesson. If you can, I'd like to hear more about your autonomous region of Finland. As you all may have guessed by now, I really enjoy geography and finding out about lifestyles and habits in different countries so please write in and teach us all while we enjoy Thorin and Grace. BTW, are any guys reading this? Just wondering.**

* * *

**Chapter 53: Boys and Their Toys**

The next morning Grace's eyes flew open and she looked at her husband's sleeping face. His arms were around her, and she stroked his cheek.

"Thorin, my love," she whispered, "it's time to get up. We need to get ready for the fair."

Thorin mumbled and pulled her closer.

She sighed and tried again.

"Thorin, we need to get up if we're going the fair," she said a little more loudly.

Without opening his eyes, he started kissing and nuzzling her neck.

"Thorin, please," she entreated, but his caresses became bolder and more urgent.

"My woman," he growled and pulled her hips to him.

Grace leaned back and pushed away.

"No," she said firmly.

At that, his eyes opened, and she saw bewildered hurt on his face.

"You don't want me?" he asked, his deep voice gravelly from sleep. He looked intently into her eyes but did not find reassurance.

"You promised to take me and if I am to dress according to protocol, it will take a while to get ready," she said impatiently. "We don't have the time."

He leaned against the pillows and looked at the ceiling.

"You didn't answer my question," he said quietly.

Grace sighed and laid her head next to his.

"Look at me," she said, but he did not move, so she took his chin in her hand. His eyes held wounded pride and uncertainty. She realized that they were both emotionally exhausted, so she kissed him. He immediately swept her underneath him and pressed his body against hers.

"Please Grace," he said as he cupped his hand and pushed the hair from her face. His voice was raw, and she caught a hint of desperation in his eyes. "I need you to want me now. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, my only love," she said, "but after reliving what happened yesterday, I need to be around people, I need …" Her voice choked on the last word.

Finally understanding, he smiled and stroked her face.

"Of course, my heart," he said, "but can't we have both? Forget protocol. Besides, this is Bard's day. Let him dress the part, and we'll go as his friends and not as king and queen of Erebor."

She let out a relieved sigh and wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her against him hungrily.

After they loved all the leftover emotion away, Thorin brought Saraya and Theran in for their morning meal. Both ate greedily and even so young they were already plump. Theran's hair was rapidly thickening into black waves like his father while Saraya's golden wisps were turning into her mother's long coils.

"Who is going to watch them while we're gone?" Thorin asked. "So many are going to the fair, and I won't allow just anyone."

Then a knock on the door sounded, and Thorin motioned for Grace to pull her robe more tightly around her. He opened the door to see a widely grinning Balin in front of a greatly amused Agathil.

"Where are my bairns?" he asked while he clapped his hands together with glee and marched jauntily over to Grace.

"I see that my lad is a strapping dwarfling now," he said happily as he took Theran from Grace and tickled his lower lip. Theran strained and all heard a loud pop of gas.

"Aye, well, Agathil, perhaps you'd better take him now," Balin said, knowing what was coming. Agathil mock glared at Balin and then took Theran with a laugh.

"Come on little king," she said, "we both know what to do by now."

Balin turned back for Saraya. He picked her up carefully and reverently settled her in his arms.

"My little princess," he said softly, "me little darlin'."

"Does he know they aren't actually his dwarflings?" Thorin grumbled softly to Grace. She giggled at the look of adoration on Balin's face.

"Hush, Thorin," she said softly, "I think it's wonderful. Are you satisfied?"

He looked at Balin who was gently stroking Saraya's curls and kissing her forehead, and he was touched in spite of himself.

"Aye," he said. "They'd die to defend them as we would. Let's get ready to go."

After dressing, they mounted Pearl and Steel and headed for Dale with a small escort. Grace wore a light pink silk gown with a portrait neckline and bell sleeves. A thin mithril belt had a diamond buckle engraved with the House of Durin rune to signify her status. She wore her hair swept to the side in an elaborate braid that fell over her right shoulder. Thorin wore black breeches and dark gray tunic laced with silver embroidery. He wore a coat of black velvet embroidered with the Durin crest on the left side and two crossed war axes with the Arkenstone above on his right sleeve.

As they rode, she thought through the day ahead. The games were scheduled over two days with early round contests today and the finalists tomorrow morning. Then the arm-wrestling and other contests would begin.

"Thorin, I have a question about the arm-wrestling," she said. "Why do the women train as well? They can refuse an unwanted suitor, so why would they try to defeat dwarves they want?"

Thorin smiled as he recalled the many contests he watched over the years.

"It's a matter of pride, my heart," he said. "Dwarves want spouses with strength and spirit, and this way they can show each other off to everyone and earn respect and approval of the match. For the woman it shows how serious a dwarf is that he will train to win her. A hard-fought contest earns great honor and some have become legend."

As Grace listened, an_ interesting_ thought entered her mind.

"So, do the women do anything to gain an advantage since dwarf men are so strong?" she asked.

Thorin chuckled thinking of some of the tactics he had seen over the years.

"Dwarf women are very strong as well, but I remember one time when she came dressed so seductively that poor Befrin didn't even put up a fight. I think that was the fastest win on record."

"Poor dwarf," she said, "was he very disappointed?"

Thorin smirked.

"No," he said, "he was even more determined after that, so he challenged her again and came with a blindfold and left with a wife. They've been happily married ever since."

"Hmmm," she replied, "so how does it begin tomorrow afternoon? Does everyone sign up like the other contests and all sit down at once?"

"No," he said. "The first one to call out a challenge earns the greatest honor for being so bold and has the privilege of a single contest in front of everyone. After that, we will send everyone else who challenges to the various tables."

"Ah," she said as she tapped her finger against her mouth. "I see."

As they started up the road to Dale, Thorin turned to his wife.

"Please do not be very disappointed in me if I don't show the same enthusiasm for this event," he said earnestly. "I have little patience for such things though I will gladly suffer through it for your sake."

Grace pulled Pearl closer and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"I understand," she said smiling. "I just thank you for taking me."

* * *

"Now just how does this work?"

"Well, my lord, you put the coin in the pony's mouth, then you pull the lever just so, and the pony trots up to the trough and drops the coin in."

"Remarkable! I'll take that as well for Theran."

Grace looked over from where she stood with Bard and Legolas to watch Thorin suffer through more of the fair.

"How long has he been at the toymaker's booth?" Bard asked with great amusement.

"Too long. After he went to all the food stalls, he spent time in the ale tent, and then headed straight for the toymaker's booth to buy a roomful of toys for two infants," she said drily. "Now I know why he wanted the escort. We need more ponies to carry everything home."

Bard and Legolas laughed heartily.

"Well, we will escort you, my lady, if you would like to see anything," Bard said happily. He had braced himself for their coming, but he could not prevent a twist in his heart when he saw her walk toward him with a bright smile. However, he squelched the desire to pretend that she was his wife while he escorted her around the fair and decided instead to walk beside her while Legolas took her arm. He looked regal in a crimson tunic embroidered with gold, black breeches, and long black robes trimmed with black mink. He wore a thick necklace of diamonds and rubies.

"Bard, why have you not been crowned?" Grace asked. "You've been in Dale almost as long as we've been at Erebor."

Legolas looked on with interest while Bard glanced at Grace and looked away.

"I do not wish to be king unless I have a queen," he said tightly. He looked like he was going to say more but then shook his head and looked at the ground.

"He still loves you, my lady," Legolas said silently. Grace's eyes opened wide.

"We need to help him, Legolas," she replied, and then she changed the subject.

"So are you competing against each other today?" she asked.

Legolas smiled.

"No, my lady," he said, "I am signed up for the long-bow obstacle course while Bard will compete in the long-distance accuracy challenge."

Bard looked at her questioningly.

"Are you not competing, my lady?" he asked. "Theran and Saraya are certainly thriving."

Grace smiled secretively. "Perhaps," she said.

Bard and Legolas smiled at each other while Grace nodded ahead.

"But you both may have a challenge from them," she said.

They looked to see three archers standing in front of a food stall serving meat pies. They all were taller than average and wore hooded gray cloaks. Nothing could be seen of their faces, but a breeze blowing one cloak aside showed them to be heavily armed.

"Rangers," Legolas said. Bard's eyebrows rose.

"Here?" he asked. "I thought rangers were in the wild. Something like these games would be frivolous to them."

"Evidently not," Grace said. "I want to meet them." She turned and saw them walking away. "I will meet you both back here shortly."

They protested that she needed protection, but she shook her head and laughed.

"Do you think I can't defend myself?"

She found them again at the weapons booths where she thought they might go. All the merchants saw her coming and called for her to see their wares. A crowd began to gather, and those who had not seen her before gawked at her beauty.

"She must be the queen of Erebor," they whispered. "Perhaps the rumors are true after all," and they pressed closer.

The dwarves in the area grew concerned, and Dwalin shouldered his way out of the crowd.

"Where's Thorin?" he asked bluntly. "He should be with you, my lady."

Grace's musical laugh drifted over the jostling men, elves, and dwarves.

"He's at the toy booths, Dwalin," she said, "buying everything for the twins."

He grunted and nodded at another dwarf who ran to get Thorin.

"My lady," he said gruffly, "you must not be without escort."

She raised her eyebrows. "I believe I am capable of handling myself," she said quietly.

Dwalin offered his arm and led her to a booth.

"Aye," he said in a low voice, "but that's not the problem. If you should suffer insult here it will reflect badly on Bard, and Thorin will have to challenge. An unescorted woman is fair game to some."

She nodded, finally understanding, and looked at the crowd.

"I will disperse them," she said, and she fingered the various weapons on the table. Dwalin looked on doubtfully.

"What are these?" she asked the merchant as she held up thin, star-shaped pieces of metal.

"Throwing stars, my lady," he said. "I made them myself as an experiment," and he mimicked the correct motion at the target beyond.

Grace stepped away with a handful of throwing stars and faced the target 25 yards away. The crowd rumbled with curiousity and excitement. She felt their weight and fingered their shape. Then rapid-fire she threw the stars at the target. Plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk they landed in the middle of the bull's eye spelling the Durin royal rune. The crowd gasped, and she turned to all who stood watching.

"Yes," she said, "I am Lady Grace, queen of Erebor, and the stories are true."

She put her hands on her hips and raised her chin as she faced the crowd with an imperial lift of her eyebrows. One by one those in the crowd knelt and bowed their heads. She nodded and turned to Dwalin with a question on her face.

The tattooed warrior looked assessingly at the crowd and wrapped his arms around himself in surrender.

"Aye, my lady," he said gruffly, "you win."

Then she smiled and said to them all, "The weapons here are the finest you'll find anywhere, and the king and I accept only the best, so I suggest that you get what you want now before we take the lot."

The crowd rushed the tables, and the dwarf who sold the throwing stars found himself besieged. Grace took Dwalin's arm, and he led her from the tables only to see Bard, Legolas, and Thorin hastening toward them.

"My lady, is everything all right?" Bard asked anxiously. She frowned realizing that she made them all worry needlessly.

"Of course, Bard," she said smiling, "all is well. I am enjoying myself very much, and I think the merchants are finding the fair quite a success." She looked pointedly at Thorin who shrugged his shoulders.

"I thought it was going to be mostly female trappings," he said sheepishly. Then he took her arm and they started toward another section when a ranger appeared and bowed before them. Legolas and Bard walked up behind them.

"My lord," he said, and turning to Grace he bowed deeper, "and my lady."

He stood tall and pushed back his hood slightly. He was handsome with even features and calm blue eyes, but he looked weathered with a deep tan and hard lines on his face showing his hard life. His chin and jaw were covered in stubble, and his leather jerkin was worn and patched in places, but in his eyes was the the wisdom gained from hard trials.

"I was impressed by your display," he said as he jerked his head toward to the weapons booths, all now empty. "I've never seen the like, and since you had come in search of us, I thought to introduce myself, although I'm sure you understand that we prefer to remain in the background."

Bard, Legolas, and Thorin all shared glances. Rangers in the area raised questions that needed answers.

"Was I so obvious?" she asked, amused by his bluntness.

"Not at all, my lady," he said, amused in return, "but a woman as lovely as you can never go unnoticed."

Thorin immediately started grinding his teeth, but Grace laughed with delight and looked over to see the other rangers watching them. On seeing her glance, one ranger bowed slightly while the other made an odd movement with his legs before he quickly straightened and inclined his head. Grace's eyes opened wide and she turned to the ranger before her and stared into his eyes. He shifted uneasily and she smiled broadly.

"Are any of you competing?" she asked as her lip quirked.

"One of us," he said tightly. "He is younger and wishes some experience."

Grace nodded and stifled a laugh.

"Well, I and my husband invite you all to stay at Erebor tomorrow night," she said with a hint of mischief playing about her lips. "After all that time in the wild we would like to honor you with a good meal and comfortable bed. You may also resupply as needed."

Thorin turned to her in amazement, but she continued to stare at the ranger as if daring him to refuse.

"Ah, well," he stammered before he regained his bearing. "It would be our honor, my lady." He bowed quickly and left, and the three of them melted away.

Grace laughed at the confused faces of the three lords standing before her.

"I will explain later," she said. Then she looked at Bard and Legolas. "Why don't you both join us as well? It will be most entertaining I promise you."

They nodded slowly, knowing some game was afoot.

"My lady," Legolas asked silently, "what are you up to?"

"Nothing more than helping our friend," she replied serenely. "Trust me."

He inclined his head slightly, and then they walked through the fair together. Bard's chest swelled with pride at the great honor his city earned. Thorin stood patiently while Grace fingered some fabrics. Then she reached a booth that held small pots and bottles.

"What is this, Norin?" she asked. The dwarf from Erebor bowed and leaned closer. "They are pigments to make women look more beautiful, my lady, not that you need any. It's a new notion of my wife, Nera." He motioned her over so she could demonstrate. Grace nodded thinking back to her earlier_ interesting_ idea.

"Nera, I have an idea I'd like to discuss with you," she said. They walked away together, and the men heard a squeal of excitement.

"Do you think you all can do it so quickly?" Grace asked. Nera giddily clapped her hands together.

"Aye, my lady," she said giggling. "T'will be no problem a t'all, and I'll make sure that all the women are there to support ye." Grace squeezed her hands, and they laughed together.

"What's going on, Grace?" Thorin asked befuddled.

"Well, my king," she said happily, "I'm planning wonderful surprises for those I love tomorrow." Thorin started to argue, but she held up her hand.

"We're going to need some diversions after we present Thanduil to Erebor today," she added.

"True enough," he said.

They rode back to Erebor, all ponies laden with Thorin's purchases as well as gifts from grateful merchants for Grace.

"Did you enjoy yourself, my king?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"You know I did," he said, "and I'm happy for Bard. He needed this."

Grace nodded contentedly. "But not as much as what I'm planning for him," she thought.

* * *

**If you do not understand dear readers, fear not! All will be revealed soon. **


	54. Let The Games Begin!

**A little more fun...**

* * *

**Chapter 54: Let the Games Begin!**

Thorin stood proudly on the high platform in front of the main gate of Erebor where all his people, all Mirkwood elves not on guard duty, and citizens of Dale were assembled. This time he wore royal robes with his mitril crown and various necklaces, rings, and other jewels adorning his royal person. Grace stood next to him dressed even more elaborately with all her hair done up in thin braids and twisted into a heavy bun below her mitril circlet. She wore a high-necked jewel-encrusted gown that flashed in the sun under a sleeveless gold coat embroidered with the Durin crest. A wide gold belt dripping with diamonds and amethysts sat at her waist above thick skirts, and and a heavy necklace of sapphires and rubies made her neck stiff. The entire outfit was so cumbersome and weighty that she needed Thorin's help up the stairs, and he watched with concern as she labored to lift her feet.

"Could you see me wearing _this_ at the fair?" she whispered into Thorin's ear.

He shook his head slightly.

"This was made for a dwarven figure with much more bulk," he said. "I know it's protocol for occasions like this, but I prefer your hair down and more simple attire. Perhaps it's time to change protocol. I am king after all."

She squeezed his hand.

"I would happily obey that order, my lord," she said. She was hot and very uncomfortable under the many heavy layers, and she longed to wear her usual clothes.

Bard stepped up and walked over.

"How are we faring?" he asked. He knew about Thranduil's coming and came to show his support.

"All is well so far," Thorin replied. "We are thankful for your help." "We're going to need it," he added through his teeth.

Legolas and a cloaked elf took their seats, and Thorin's council filed quietly in behind. They all looked at the silent figure and knew it was Thranduil, but while they held no love for him, they did not rejoice at his discomfort or the trial he faced.

When all took their places, Thorin stepped forward and addressed their combined peoples.

"Welcome to Erebor for the first, and I will say annual, Warrior Games," he said stirringly. The crowd roared, and voices shouted war cries in various languages.

Thorin smiled broadly and stilled the crowd.

"We would not be able to have such an event without the help and friendship of those who rebuilt Erebor and Dale and fought for their survival. We now honor Lord Bard of Dale and his people for their hard work and courage in battle." Bard stood and the crowd whistled and cheered. "And we honor Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm and the elves who worked and fought beside him."

Legolas stood and bowed elegantly, and the crowd shouted with elves calling out in Sindarin.

"These events have brought the healing of old wounds and the forging of new relationships," Thorin said, "but the healing will not complete unless all can share in it. Therefore, the queen, council, and I welcome King Thranduil of Mirkwood."

All noise stopped as Thranduil stood and took off his cloak. Unlike the royal garb of the rest, he wore a plain tunic of green silk, green breeches, and a plain circlet.

His somber eyes surveyed the crowd. The elves knew he would be there and had spread themselves throughout the crowd, but the men from Dale and dwarves stood aghast. Many in the crowd starting grumbling, and a sound arose like the humming of angry bees, but at the first word of Thranduil, the crowd stilled.

"I am here to offer my deepest apologies to those who are still living and to the descendants of those who perished," he said in a quiet voice that carried nonetheless. "I broke a treaty to a people who surely would have come to my aid if I needed it, and while I do not know if our help could have saved Erebor, I will forever live with the regret of not knowing. I have learned much lately from my son and your king and queen, whose reputation for compassion and mercy is well-deserved. As I said to them, I do not ask for forgiveness, but I wish now to make amends as best I can to proud and worthy people who deserved better."

Thorin walked up to his left and clapped him on the arm while Grace stood beaming on his right. Legolas stepped forward, and he and his father embraced, and Bard came forward to take his place. Then all the council members stood and gathered around Thranduil. Widespread murmuring broke out as the people looked up to see the unprecedented sight of three kingdoms united not just by treaty but by friendship. Then Grace motioned and took Theran from Agathil and handed him to Thranduil. Thranduil was surprised by the gesture, but he took Theran carefully and nestled him in his arms. The crowd stood in wonder as they saw a wide smile break open on Thranduil's face, and they heard him choke up as he stroked Theran's cheek.

"A baby," he said reverently, "a beautiful baby boy. It's been so long since I've held a new life." He turned to his son, and no one missed the look of true affection he gave Legolas. Then he turned to Grace.

"I thank you, my lady, for giving me this precious gift," he said. Grace inclined her head graciously.

"I expect you all to treat King Thranduil with the deference you give me," Thorin said. His look was stern and his words final. "There will be no disrespect to him or his people. That is my command." He gazed fiercely over the crowd. Then Theran gurgled and all heard an explosive blast of gas. Thorin turned his head to see Thranduil look down with shock. Theran screamed with glee, and the elf king threw back his head and laughed, and whole crowd joined in.

Thorin waited a minute to let the hilarity calm down.

"I think my son just cleared the air," he said matter-of-factly. The crowd roared again and he grinned.

"All contenders head to your assigned areas and let the games begin!" A great cheer rose up before everyone scattered to their various contest sites. Grace took Theran back from a relieved Thranduil.

"Your son has a talent for diplomacy," Bard said in Thorin's ear. Thorin snorted.

"I don't think I want that in the record books," he said. Then both of them chuckled, and he turned to help Grace down the steps.

"Did you plan that, my heart?" he asked with quirk of his mouth.

She tried and failed to look innocent.

"I couldn't have planned it, of course," she said with a grin as she tickled Theran's chin, "but you know how he is after he eats."

Thorin kissed her hand while Bard shook his head and laughed. Balin followed behind with Saraya.

"You are a great strategist, my queen," Thorin said. Bard's laugh died in his throat, and he pressed his lips together and turned away.

Grace touched Thorin's hand.

"I need to talk with him, my love," she said. "He is unhappy." Thorin looked over at Bard with concern and then nodded and took Theran and walked on.

"Will you help me, Bard?" she asked. His face lit up and he took her hand.

"What is wrong, my friend?" she asked silently. He looked at her surprised.

"How is this possible?" he asked. "How is your voice in my mind?"

"It is a gift of my people though elves are capable of the same without touching," she said. "Perhaps I should try that sometime."

"Ah," he said as understanding dawned. "That is why I sometimes see Thorin laughing when nothing was said. You were talking to him this way and you did again just now."

"Yes," she said and smiled. "It is useful at times when we want privacy. What's wrong, Bard?"

He immediately stiffened.

"Nothing, my lady," he said. "You look very lovely this morning." A musical laugh rang lightly in his mind.

"Thorin said nearly the same thing to me soon after we first met," she said, warmly remembering the memory. Bard sighed and gripped her hand firmly.

"You must promise me that I will not lose your friendship over this or Thorin's," he said urgently. He caught her eye, and she saw his fear.

"I promise, Bard," she said seriously. He took a deep breath and plunged in.

"I love you, my lady," he said. "I want to call you Grace because that is what I do in my mind when I'm apart from you. I wrestle with the thought that it was only because I was too late in meeting you that you aren't my wife instead of Thorin's, or that if I had challenged him you would be mine now. I even cried out to the stars the other night and swore to put you behind me and open my heart to another, but I can't do that while I still think I might have had a chance. My heart stings with the regrets I feel."

The depth of his feelings surprised her, and she had to catch her breath and regain her composure.

"Is your friendship with Thorin an effort to be close to me?" she asked faintly, hoping she was wrong. It would be a bitter blow to her husband to find out that one of his best friends was only so because he wanted her.

"No," he said, and he smiled at Grace's obvious relief, "I love Thorin for his own sake, and I wrestle with that as well. I didn't challenge him for you then, but if I could again now I wouldn't because of my regard for him. He and Legolas are the best friends I've ever had. I have no kin and no other noble family from Dale survived for me to seek out, so they are as close to me as brothers. Sometimes I think I'll lose my mind thinking about how tangled my feelings are."

She looked up at him fondly with sympathy and concern, and as he looked down at her, she saw his torment and decided to end it quickly.

"My Father taught me that regret is the poison of life," she thought to him, "and I will relieve you of it now. If I had met you both at the same time and both of you had an equal chance, my dear friend, I still would have chosen Thorin."

His grip on her hand tightened, and she heard his anguished cry in her mind.

"Please understand, Bard," she thought, "he was always the one for me. We suit each other perfectly, and I believe that was not by accident but by my Father's design from the start."

Bard looked down at her with surprise.

"But I thought you had to fight to come back?" he asked. "I thought that your coming here in the first place was an accident.'

"I thought so too at first," she said, "and while I don't know for certain, I no longer believe it. Father doesn't always explain what he does and why, but I believe that I was meant to come here from the first and that I was meant to meet Thorin, and that he was meant to fall in love with me and in time me with him. Look at how much has changed because of those events."

As Bard thought through the past few years, he realized how much good came to pass from her coming and Thorin meeting her. Years of despair and emptiness were peeled away and replaced by prosperity, peace, and love for not only him but thousands upon thousands. Putting his own feelings into the larger picture, Bard saw the truth of her words, and relief swept through him.

"Aye," he said smiling, "thank you, my lady, for your candor. I hope you are not offended."

She patted his hand. "Not at all, Bard," she said. "There is someone out there for you, and when she comes your heart will soar so much higher because you'll be free to love her."

He nodded, not quite believing her.

"Of course, as a friend, I'll have to make sure she's worthy of you before I give you both my blessing," she said.

He tried to find a witty response but failed.

She looked at Bard slyly.

"And I promise I'll try not to be jealous at losing an admirer," she said.

He laughed heartily and kissed her hand since they now were at the gate where Thorin stood waiting.

"My thanks, my lady," he said with good humor, "and now I must away to the tournament." He bowed elegantly.

"Is he well?" Thorin asked with concern after they had walked to their chambers. He fumbled with an ornate clasp as he tried to help her undress.

"Yes, goodness, this is not coming off!" Grace said with frustration while she tried to undo the clasps. "I am ready to tear it apart!"

Thorin's eyes flared.

"The seamstresses will be upset," he said teasingly, "but you could always blame it on me."

Grace caught the look of want in his eyes, but she shook her head and tugged some more.

"I would love that," she said, as she huffed and puffed with the heavy fabric, "but they would be heartbroken. Perhaps I could slip out from under it instead."

Together, they managed to undo a few of the complicated clasps, and she started wiggling out of the dress. Thorin stepped back to watch her struggle, an amused smile dancing around his lips.

"I'm stuck, Thorin," she said, her voice muffled by the layers of fabric. He laughed quietly with his hand over his mouth.

"This isn't amusing!" she said angrily. He laughed harder.

"Haver!" she spat. "By Durin's beard, you'd better help me!"

He stopped laughing.

"Where in Erebor did you here that?" he asked.

"Where do you think?" she yelled with increasing frustration. "By Durin's beard, you dolt, if you don't get me outta here I'll split your fool noggin wide!"

"Dwalin!" Thorin shouted, and he burst out laughing only to have Balin and Agathil walk in.

"We just put them down for their nap, my lord, and …" Balin and Agathil stood like statues at the sight before them. A shaking heap of bejeweled fabric with one arm sticking out and two feet at the bottom stood in the middle of the room while the lord of the land was holding his sides. They looked quizzically at Thorin and then listened as muffled shrieks erupted from the heap.

"Get me out of here!" she cried. Their trance broke and they hastened to her.

"No, this goes there, Agathil," Balin said patiently. "No, now it's worse." Finally, he walked over to the bell and sent for the seamstresses and dressers.

"You should have done this straightaway, laddie," he said sternly to Thorin who was still chuckling. "Now what are they going to think when they see, well, this?" He motioned to the heap. "You don't want her to lose respect in front of them, do you?" The heap started quivering.

Thorin immediately turned serious.

"Forgive me, my heart," he said. "You aren't very angry … are you?" The heap did not respond, but one foot started tapping.

"Perhaps together we can pull it over your head," he said. "Lift your arms, Grace, and we'll do our best." He stood on a chair while the Balin and Agathil lifted from underneath. After three tries, they pulled the dress over her head to see a disheveled and furious queen standing before them in a thin linen shift. She grabbed her robe and angrily thrust her arms through the sleeves.

"Well, Agathil, I believe the ax throwing competition is about to start," Balin said quickly. "Can't miss me own brother," and they turned and nearly ran out the door, which closed with a crash.

Thorin looked meekly at his wife whose anger grew with every passing moment, and he quickly apologized.

"Forgive me," he said soberly. "I shouldn't have laughed at you, my heart, especially when I know how much I dislike it myself. It was insensitive."

She looked at him trembling with anger.

"Hold up your palms," she said. He did as she bid. Without warning, she punched them hard.

He winced and was surprised at the power and ferocity of her punch. He turned his palms over and saw red marks beginning to appear through his thick calluses.

"Put them back up," she said glaring. Sighing, he raised them again not daring to comment, and she punched them over and over until her anger at the whole ordeal was spent.

Thorin counted himself fortunate that her hand was small in comparison and that his calluses were thick from years of smithing and fighting.

"Otherwise," he thought to himself, "I wouldn't be able to wield a sword or hammer for a month."

When she stopped, her chin started trembling. He held his arms open slightly to show that he would embrace her if she wished but not so open to assume that she wanted him to. She stepped up instead and poked her finger into his chest.

"Change the rules today, Thorin," she said between her teeth. He nodded quietly. Then she hugged him, and he pulled her head on his shoulder.

"I _am_ sorry, my heart," he said. "I'm still so new at being a husband." She nodded, and he felt her shaking against his chest. He grew worried but then he heard her snort, and she lifted her head.

"Did I truly look ridiculous, Thorin?" she asked with a tearful giggle.

"Truly, but adorable all the same," he said smiling. A knock at the door announced the dressers and seamstresses. Grace made herself presentable, and Thorin opened the door and ushered them in. He picked up the gown carefully and handed it to them with a smile.

"My compliments on your excellent work," he said. "In fact, your work is so exquisite that I have decided that this dress should never be worn again. It deserves instead to be preserved and placed in the royal treasury along with the names of those who worked on it and dressed the queen, for you all deserve recognition for how wonderful she looked on this historic day."

"My lord!" the women cried. Such an honor for them was unheard of.

He walked over to a table and wrote out an order. "Please take this to treasury after you have preserved the dress accordingly along with the date and occasion for which it was worn. I further instruct royal protocol be changed and that from now on the queen may dress in whatever outfit she deems appropriate because I am certain that this is the finest royal outfit ever made, and I would not wish to discourage others by their inability to surpass it." The women left squealing with excitement.

"Now I know where Theran gets his talent for diplomacy," Grace said playfully.

Thorin hugged her from behind.

"Now don't start something else, my heart," he said teasingly. "We don't have the time with the archery competition about to begin."

"Oh!" she said. "I've lost track of the hour. I need to be there at once. Would I offend if I dressed in my old quest outfit?"

Thorin looked puzzled.

"I think you should dress more in line with your station in public today, my heart," he said, "but why the need to hurry?"

"What if I dressed in it so that no one knew who I was?" she asked. "What if I did only for a little while? Would that suffice?"

"I believe so," he said, "but why."

She ran for her old clothes, and he followed her into their bedroom.

"I need to talk to the ranger," she said, "the young one, and not as the queen but as another archer. I don't want to put them on their guard."

Thorin stroked his beard.

"I still don't understand," he said. "Why is he so important?"

Grace stopped pulling up her boots and looked up with a smile.

"Because my only love and king, he is a she."

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**Please review my friends and welcome readers from Quatar, Korea, Serbia and Montenegro, Slovakia, the Russian Federation, Czech Republic, Indonesia, and Iceland to name a few! BTW, my husband lets me punch his palms when I'm frustrated.**


	55. Taking Aim

**Chapter 55: Taking Aim**

Grace strode toward the archery targets with Thorin trailing far behind. He promised that he would not give her away, but he insisted he keep his eyes on her, remembering all the trouble she had with men before. Thorin stood next to Kili, who nodded at his uncle and took aim. After he completed his round and advanced, he stepped out and shadowed Grace to be of help if needed.

She wore her elvish cloak and as she passed by Bard, his lip curled even as he let his arrow go to where it struck dead center of the target. He looked up to raise a brow at Thorin. He frowned, and Bard jerked his chin to where Legolas was standing ten yards beyond him with his bow. Legolas looked up and smiled slightly as he saw Grace coming toward him with her hood over her head. He too caught Thorin's eyes and nodded. They would all keep watch over her while she competed.

Flags flew above archers from all around Middle-earth who stood in rows facing their targets. Elves wearing brown and green stood shoulder to shoulder with the few dwarves who entered and with men from Dale, Lake-town, parts south, and areas unknown. All archers needed to hit the inner two rings of the target with five arrows out of seven to advance to individual events. Grace took an open spot next to the young ranger and shot three of her arrows. The other two rangers watched quietly from a grove of trees some distance away.

"You are determined to seek us out, your majesty," the ranger said in a low, husky voice.

Grace smiled in her hood.

"How do you know who I am?" she asked quietly.

The ranger picked up the bow and hit the bull's eye. "I watched your form yesterday. No one else has such fluidity, not even the elves. What do you want with us?"

Grace shot her other two arrows and then stepped closer.

"You are a woman in disguise, and I want to know why," she said calmly. "I will not give you away, but there is no need to hide here."

The ranger stepped back in surprise and looked at her companions. At her glance, they started toward them.

"How did you discover me?" she asked in a guarded tone. She looked around nervously.

Grace laughed quietly.

"You were going to curtsey when you saw me before you caught yourself," she said. Then she grew concerned. "Is there a reason you are concealing yourself? Are you in trouble? Do you need help?"

The hood lifted slightly and Grace saw a strong chin and flashing smile. She was a head taller than Grace, slim, and a born archer. She shot the rest of her arrows without deliberation, and all landed in the center.

"I can take care of myself as you see, your majesty," she said firmly. "I'm not in any trouble."

By now the rangers surrounded Grace, and Thorin grew alarmed and walked toward her. Legolas and Bard shot their arrows quickly and and waited for Thorin to signal them. Kili moved closer.

Grace grew puzzled.

"Then why are you hiding?" she asked. "Dwarves and elves have women competing openly."

The ranger snorted in disgust.

"Aye, but do you see any human women competing, your majesty?" she asked. Grace looked around and noticed that indeed no human woman was anywhere in the area.

"Men think that women have no place in battle or sports, or in anything that takes place outside the house or workshop," she said angrily. "I will win to show them differently."

Grace smiled widely.

"I look forward to that," she said. "What is your name?"

The ranger fell silent and glanced at the tallest one who nodded. She turned back to Grace and squared her shoulders.

"My name is Aurelan," she said proudly, "and these are my brothers, Orel and Tyree. It is our great pleasure to meet you properly, your majesty."

The rangers stepped forward, bowed, and the one that Grace met yesterday took Aurelan's arm.

"We're attracting too much attention, Aurie," he said quickly. "Finish up here. We'll wait for you at the distance shoot." Then they melted into the crowd.

"Ah," Grace said, "you'll be competing against Lord Bard then. I wish you well. He is one of the finest archers I've ever seen."

Aurelan smiled thinly, and Grace caught a flash of large, brown eyes.

"That's high praise coming from you, your majesty," she said, "but if you are competing the contest is already over."

Grace shook her head.

"No," she said warmly. "I came down here to meet you. You piqued my curiosity, and I wanted to be sure."

Aurelan adopted a skeptical stance, and Grace could hear it in her voice.

"Do you take such an interest in all women, your majesty?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Surely, you have too many duties to take much interest in those beyond your borders."

Grace took off her hood so Aurelan could see her face clearly. Those around Grace gasped and bowed low, and Thorin saw that it was time to leave.

"I have no borders, Aurelan," she said seriously. "As you may have heard, I am a Therian, and I will help all who need it."

Aurelan's eyes widened, and she scrutinized Grace's face. The two women stood toe to toe and took each other's measure.

"She has great spirit," Grace thought. "I hope she does well for her sake."

Finally, Aurelan stepped back and dipped her head.

"I apologize for my tone, your majesty," she said softly. "I see you mean what you say. I've heard stories about your abilities and generosity. I saw your ability this morning, and now I see that the stories about your kindness are true as well. Forgive me for doubting your sincerity, but I don't come across it often."

Thorin came up and took Grace's arm, and Aurelan bowed formally.

"My lord," she said. "I thank you for the opportunity to prove my skill." Thorin inclined his head graciously.

"Best of luck to you, archer," he said, and then he turned to Grace and stroked her arm and hand. Aurelan could not miss the look of love and pride he gave his wife. She remembered a similar look, one on the face of her father when he looked at her mother, and it stirred happier memories, memories of laughter and love before they were all swept away by fire and terror.

"Thank you, my lord," she said fiercely, "but I will win because I am the best, and luck has nothing to do with it." With that, she turned on her heel and swept through the crowd.

"She has cheek, I'll say that for her," Thorin said impressed.

Then Bard and Legolas walked up.

"What are you doing here, my lady?" Bard asked with good humor. "Are you competing after all?" He looked around and saw a number of downcast faces. "You are discouraging the competitors."

She laughed.

"No, Bard," she said cheerfully, "I just wanted to enjoy myself for a while." Then she nodded to an attendant who approached with the bow given to her by Legolas. "And I wanted to test out my gift since I did not have opportunity until now." The other archers stopped to watch, and she quickly shot a succession of jeweled arrows at the target, and all landed precisely in the center in a tight knot.

"Wonderful, Legolas!" she said happily, "so smooth and easy to handle. It is a pleasure to use. Thank you again." Then she tilted her head and looked speculatively at her tall, blond friend. "Perhaps you can teach Saraya when she is old enough. My kin gave her a bow and arrow set, and I think you'd like to see it."

Legolas smiled at the thought of teaching Grace's daughter.

"I would be honored, my lady," he said, "but if she is anything like her mother, she will outclass me before too long. You would be the better teacher."

"Perhaps," she said looking at Bard and Legolas, "but we would like both of you to know our children. Theran would do well to have many role models as well as friends when he assumes his duties as prince."

"Aye," Thorin said seriously, "this is not the place to talk about it, but we would be honored for both of you to help teach and guide our children." He sighed, and Grace took his hand. "It is hard to stand alone. I'm grateful to do so no longer, and I would not wish my son to have that experience."

Bard and Legolas both stepped up and put their hands on Thorin's shoulders.

"They will never be friendless as long as we live," Legolas said. "Never," Bard added. "And they will never be without family," Kili said stoutly as he walked up. Thorin smiled, touched by their unqualified support.

They all had quite forgotten the tournament until a call rang out for all qualifiers to head to their individual events.

Thorin patted her arm.

"We must leave them to the tournament, Grace," he said quietly, "and you need to change into more appropriate attire."

She nodded and hugged Bard, Legolas, and Kili. Thorin clapped them on the back.

"We wish you all well," he said, and they watched them leave.

"Now," she said eagerly, "let's see the list," and she called to see the list of archers who advanced. Her eyes scanned the names, and she frowned at first and then smiled broadly. There in bold letters was the name "Aurelan of Dale."

"This is going to be even more interesting than I thought," she said, and she motioned for Thorin to see.

His eyes widened.

"Were you right, my heart?" he asked. He looked over and saw Aurelan in the distance with her brothers in the shadows behind her.

"Yes," she said, "and the other two are her brothers. A family of rangers is unusual, isn't it, Thorin?"

He looked up surprised.

"Aye," he said. "I've never heard of it before, although there are no rules against it, but …," and he read the name again. "All the rangers I know of are men of the north and most of them Dunedain. I've never heard of a woman ranger before and certainly not one from Dale. This is very odd."

Grace grinned.

"And very mysterious," she said as Thorin led her back to Erebor. "The next few days are going to be very interesting indeed."

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**Aurelan is Au-REE-lan. Please review!**


	56. Band of Brothers

**The plot thickens and please review! I realize that I'm taking much longer than I said I would to wrap things up, but I'm having too much fun right now! **

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**Chapter 56: Band of brothers**

Aurelan walked over to her waiting brothers with much on her mind. She acted calm and assured in front of the king and queen, but even though she tried to deny it, meeting them rattled her nerves—especially meeting the queen.

"What does she mean by wanting to meet me?" she asked herself. "So what if I'm a woman in disguise? There must be some other reason, something other than our being rangers even, but what?"

In truth, she wasn't a ranger, not yet. Her brothers were trained as rangers, while she was left at age eight on the outskirts of Rohan with an embittered aunt who taught her manners, music, and how to address her betters, "even though you'll find none here in this forsaken waste," she used to say. Aurelan remembered her excitement when her parents said that they were leaving their village near Rohan to make a better life for their family in Rhun, a life that a kind but naïve ancestor destroyed when he was accused of trying to kill a king long ago. But the same tragedy was also their salvation when Ored and his family were banished from their homeland and so escaped Smaug's destruction of their part of the world.

"What did she want with you, Aurie?" Tyree asked in a low voice. He and his younger brother Orel watched the archers prepare for their next trial. To advance, archers first had to shoot into the hollow necks of gourds placed 40 feet away. Those who passed that test needed to shoot one arrow out of five through a ring the circumference of a man's forefinger touching his thumb at 20 yards. Groans and curses resounded as archer after archer was eliminated. Several elves remained for the final rounds when Bard stepped up. He shot with ease into the gourd and then aimed with more care for the ring. The arrow flew through without even touching the inside.

"She knows I'm a woman," she said, "and she wants to know why I'm hiding. I told her the truth though nothing about us."

Tyree whistled through his teeth as he thought of what to do. To stay for the finals was impossible even though he had accepted Grace's invitation. He cursed his ancestor who ruined his family's reputation and future.

"Aurie deserves better than wandering the wild," he thought angrily, "never knowing when she will eat, if she will eat, and what day will be her last." Then he took a deep breath to clear his bitter thoughts and turned to watch his beloved sister and reason for living take her place.

Aurelan stood tall and took a deep breath while she tried to calm down. She slowly picked up her bow and shot her arrows into the gourd and then turned to shoot through the ring. A slight breeze pushed the ring at the last second, and her arrow missed by the width of a grass blade. Turning to face her brothers, she huffed, and Tyree motioned with his hands for her to relax. He was the rock she relied on and she nodded to him and smiled. She so wanted a life of adventure, to be a ranger though she was but nineteen years old. Tyree refused at first but after their aunt died when Aurelan was fifteen she traveled with them, learning how to hunt, fish, shoot, and—most importantly—stay alive. She knew that life is the wild was not an easy one, but she did not realize how much she would have to endure from uncouth and sometimes violent men. It was worse than dealing with orcs; those at least she could kill with impunity.

Her initial enthusiasm at a life free from women's duties was replaced gradually by rage at the injustices women faced. The one joy of her life was the love and support of her brothers, who took special care of her while they pushed her to be her best. Even though these games were the last place they wanted to be, they were willing to risk the danger of discovery for her sake.

Carefully exhaling, she took her place again and looked around at the trees and the clouds. Factoring in the breeze this time, she shot through the ring, and then turned and grinned at her brothers.

"Easy does it, Aurie," Tyree said beaming, "well done." Orel walked up and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "Aye, sis," he said, "da and mum would have been proud to see this moment."

They all fell silent remembering their loving parents, who died after a band of orcs raided their newly created village. The stockade wall was not yet finished, and the orcs burned the thatch-roofed huts in broad daylight in retaliation for some men killing a group of scouts the week before. The brothers had just come back with needed supplies and heard the screams. Racing on their horses, they saw their father hoist eight-year-old Aurelan out of the open window. She screamed for her mother, but her father, his face steaked with soot, held her out to 14-year-old Orel and then turned to help his wife through the window where 16-year-old Tyree waited to take her. Before he could take her hand though the floor burned through, and their parents fell into the root cellar with the flaming roof on top of them. Tyree and Orel tried to reach them, but they were already gone, and they could not fight the orcs without risking Aurelan, so they turned and fled.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly choked them back and tried to smile. She was not about to act the emotional woman now. She was a ranger.

"Aye, Orel," she said firmly, "that they would."

Bard looked through the lists at those who advanced and he saw that besides himself only a few elves and an Aurelan of Dale survived the round.

"Aurelan of Dale?" Bard muttered. He turned to see the rangers walking away. "One of them must be Aurelan," and he called out for Aurelan. All three froze, and Orel turned around and bowed while the others disappeared into the crowd.

"Yes, my lord?" he asked.

"Are you Aurelan of Dale?" Bard asked.

"My mother picked the name, milord, so I suppose one of us needs to own to it," Orel said quickly with a smile.

Bard laughed and held out his hand, and Orel slowly reached out his hand as though he was expecting a trick.

"Not as lord, but as one archer to another, I congratulate you and wish you well tomorrow," Bard said as he shook his hand strongly.

Orel looked into Bard's face intently, trying to make out his character. Bard smiled widely, but Orel was slow to return it.

"Aye, and you also, my lord, all best wishes," he said finally. Then he shook his head slightly.

"Forgive me, my lord," he said, "but I've never met a lord who wishes others well at his own expense."

Bard laughed. "I don't intend to lose, but if I do, I would rather lose to you, a man from my own city, than to one of the elves. I have a bet with Prince Legolas that I'd like to win."

Orel looked slightly unnerved. "Where we come from there isn't this familiarity between lords and their subjects," he said.

Bard looked puzzled. "But don't your ancestors come from Dale?"

Orel mumbled something, but before Bard could question him further, a group of archers heading for the obstacle course came their way, and Orel made his escape and seemed to disappear before his eyes.

As he hurried away, he thought about what he saw in Lord Bard's face and eyes. He seemed an honorable man. In fact, he seemed friendly and kind and not at all self-important, but Orel was not sure that would be to their advantage if they were found out. All of them, the elves, the dwarves, and now Lord Bard and the people of Dale seemed different from others he, Tyree, and Aurelan had met in their travels. To Orel they all seemed more like one large family than separate kingdoms led by arrogant kings playing gods. On the other hand was the Master of Lake-town. Now there was a piece of work! But these others … it just seemed too good to be true. Orel hid himself behind a hedge as he saw King Thorin and Queen Grace—now wearing a lovely light gown of lilac silk—walk up to Lord Bard. Then he saw Prince Legolas join them with a wide smile. They looked delighted to see each other, even though they were together not long ago. Very strange, Orel thought. He watched carefully to see if there was any calculation behind their eyes, any ulterior motive that betrayed political necessity or personal advantage. His eyes grew large when he realized that they were exactly as they appeared.

"Tyree and Aurelan won't believe it," he said as he watched four best friends enjoy each other's company. King Thorin burst out laughing at a comment of Prince Legolas and the rest joined in. With much merriment the group broke up, and Orel watched carefully to see if anything false would show—a look of disdain or a lip curling with contempt as the others' backs were turned, but instead King Thorin and Queen Grace watched their friends leave with broad smiles on their faces.

"Come on Legolas," Bard said as he grabbed the elf prince's upper arm, "I'm famished. Aren't you at all hungry?"

Orel listened to the elf reply that he had eaten lembas bread that morning, and he had to chuckle at Lord Bard's response.

"Oh stuff it, Legolas," he said with friendly exasperation, "it's not food if it comes in small squares that taste like sawdust."

"Aye," Orel thought, "this is like paradise, and now we've come home, but will we be allowed to stay or will they kill us as royal decree demands?"


	57. Coming Home

**This is a very short chapter, but I really need a nap, so I'll write more when I get some energy back. I think my boys took it. Please leave your thoughts, and you wonderful silent readers, please one of you surprise me with a hello. I'd appreciate it.**

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**Chapter 57: Closer to Home**

The next morning the competitors awoke to gray skies and the threat of thunderstorms. Tyree was jubilant, hoping that the weather would give him one more reason to leave early before their identities became known. He and Orel had argued about what Orel saw and the conclusions he had come to.

"If you had just seen them together, Tyree," Orel said. "They're different than others we've seen, and it's not an act. Maybe this is our chance to finally clear our names."

Tyree tapped his breast pocket where he kept a letter from their long-dead ancestor.

"Have you forgotten what Ored charged as binding on all his descendants?" he asked angrily, his mouth set in a thin line and his blue eyes flashing, "and have you forgotten all the city rulers who tried to take Aurelan by force? I grant you that the Lady Grace is gracious and kind, but don't think for a minute that she would side with us against Lord Bard. Any one of them would sacrifice us to keep their alliances secure."

Orel fell silent remembering all the men who tried to hurt Aurelan and others like the Master who tried to use them as mercenaries. Aurelan was so eager and innocent at first, and it broke Orel's heart to see her turn into a sad and angry woman. She used to believe in the goodness of people but not anymore.

"But our banishment needs to end," he thought. "We can't keep living in the wild. She deserves better, much better." He scrunched his lips and narrowed his eyes at the years of care and worry engraved on his brother's face. "He deserves better as well. We all do."

Orel straightened up and faced Tyree.

"I want to hear what Aurelan thinks," he said, and he motioned her over to them. Tyree put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"We need to leave, Aurie," Tyree said. "It's too dangerous to stay. I'm more proud of you than I can say, but Lord Bard will seek us out now. Why did you put down Dale, Aurie? You could have left it blank."

Aurelan looked down, her mind swirling with new ideas and her heart with new feelings. She knew that she had risked them all, but as they walked through the newly rebuilt city she felt a yearning to belong, a yearning so strong that she felt compelled to put down their ancestral home.

"I want to come home, Tyree," she said quietly at last. "I'm tired of not belonging anywhere."

Tyree looked at them both and frowned with worry and fear.

"We should never have come," he said nodding decisively. "I know what you feel," he added glancing over at Orel, "what you both feel. It's too tempting to be here, to be so close, but when we're far away, you'll both be glad we escaped."

"Escaped to what, Tyree?" Orel asked as he stepped up to his older brother and family head. "Wandering endlessly so that Aurelan can be killed by orcs or die an old woman in some cave?

Tyree looked at them both and threw up his hands at what had come over them. He looked after them, protected them, and acted as their father. He killed men to save them and would die to keep them safe. In return he expected unquestioning loyalty, and he was shocked by their defiance.

"Are you saying that we should come forward and put our lives in their hands?" he asked incredulously. "Ored gave all his descendants strict instructions not to trust anyone in power, and I think his warning saved us on many occasions."

"That's true, Tyree," she said, "but if we leave now I'll never know if I'm the best and, more important, they'll never know." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at Tyree's anguished face. "Please Tyree, it means so much to me. Maybe it's foolish, but I need to see them look at me differently for once, and beyond that I want to stop hiding who we are."

Tyree's face softened, and his shoulders slumped. "Isn't it enough for us to know, Aurie?" he asked softly as his thumbs wiped her tears away. "You know how much we love you. I don't know what we'd do if anything happened to you. Do you really think they'll listen to us?"

Aurelan nodded firmly to Tyree's surprise and Orel's joy.

"I don't know about the others," she said, "but Lady Grace will, and I believe she'll help us." Aurelan smiled and face lit with hope, something that Tyree and Orel had not seen for some time. Orel nodded and stood with Aurelan.

"It's time to stop running, Tyree," he said. "Here's where we make our stand."


	58. Aurelan of Dale

**Chapter 58: Aurelan of Dale**

Archers stood at the ready, horsemen led their steeds to the starting posts, and fighters of every kind took their places for the finals while merchants hawked meat pies, mugs of ale, and tasty tidbits of savory and unsavory nature to spectators. The skies looked increasingly threatening, but the rain held off, and the fight to decide the best began.

Thorin and Grace watched proudly as Fili beat his opponent in the dagger fight. Even though the man was larger, Fili was faster and used clever footwork and a trick Thorin taught him to disarm his opponent. The man's knife dropped to the ground and Fili's blade touched his throat for the win.

"Aye, well done, nephew," Thorin said after slapping him on the back. Fili grinned and puffed up his chest. Since Grace came back, Thorin was much more open and free with his affection, and Fili was eager to see his warm smile of approval.

"Thank you, uncle," he said, his eyes bright. Then Grace said what Thorin felt.

"We're so proud of you, Fili," she said fondly. "Now let's go cheer on your brother."

They made their way to the dwarven bow mounted challenge where Kili sat astride Steel. Thorin gave him his black stallion when they worked on his strategy some weeks ago.

"He's the fastest pony we have, Kili," he had said. Kili nodded unhappily.

"Aye, uncle, but others have horses, and you know our ponies can't outrun them," he groused. He sighed in defeat and his shoulders slumped.

"Yes, but our ponies are more agile and the turns are tight," Grace said as she walked into the stables. "Besides we simply need to tell Steel what to do, and he will go through his paces like water over rocks. You'll see."

They had watched Kili and Steel practice sharp turns and jumps over and over until Kili felt more confident. Now they were going to see the results.

"You didn't tell Steel anything specific about the course, did you, Grace?" Thorin asked. "I'm not sure that's allowed."

Grace put her hand on her chest and look outraged.

"Of course not," she said feigning offense. "But I did tell him that we would serve him for the feast tonight if Kili didn't win." Thorin looked at her in surprise.

Kili trotted up to the starting line with a number of dwarves, men, and one intrepid elf. He looked over at his family watching him and smiled nervously. Fili already wore a winner's belt, and Kili felt pressure to win as well. Grace called out to him.

"We're already proud, Kili," she said. Thorin squeezed her hand and nodded at his nephew, and Fili winked. Kili sat up straighter in the saddle and trained his eyes forward as the starting flag dropped. Steel surged forward to the first obstacle, a jump over a stretch of water, while Kili turned in the saddle to fire an arrow at a target behind him. Then riders had to weave their mounts through a long line of barrels while shooting at targets 50 feet away on each side of the barrels. The larger horses had trouble maneuvering through the narrow spaces, and some archers missed their targets, but Steel wheeled around each barrel tightly and Kili grinned.

Then archers raced up a hill while shooting at swinging targets. Steel galloped quickly and smoothly, and Kili hit all his targets dead center. By now mounts and riders were breathing hard, and they still had to gallop down the hill and across a wide stretch of deep water while shooting at the last target beyond the finish line. Several horses in front of Kili waited until they were at the bottom of the hill to jump across the water, but there was no room, so they plunged into the water instead.

Steel galloped down the hill and found a flat spot. "Now Steel!" Kili cried and he loosed his final arrow as the stallion jumped out and cleared the water. Kili grunted loudly as they landed hard, and Steel galloped across the finish line.

"I think he's got it, uncle!" Fili cried as the judges tallied the points. Sure enough, Kili soon strutted toward them with a jeweled belt of his own while Grace whispered to the lathered pony before the grooms led him away. Fili grabbed his brother in a bear hug, and Thorin clapped him on the back.

"It's too bad you aren't competing in something, uncle," Kili said.

"Most here have already watched me fight," Thorin replied drily with a glance at Grace. Bard walked up and congratulated the brothers. Then he turned to Thorin.

"What do you think about the schedule with a thunderstorm pending?" he asked.

Thorin glanced up at the sky and grimaced. "We'll have to postpone the afternoon events until tomorrow morning," he said. Bard chuckled.

"Pity," he said. "I was looking forward to the arm-wrestling and distance-spitting contests today."

Thorin shrugged. "Well, it will give them more time to prepare and plan their strategies."

"Aye," Bard said laughing, "dwarves are the wiliest creatures I know. Well, we'd better hurry if we want to see Legolas in the obstacle course."

"I wouldn't miss it," Thorin said, "especially since King Thranduil is planning on challenging Legolas if he wins."

Bard smirked. "Does he know?"

"No," Thorin said with a wicked grin.

"Even better," Bard said, and they hastened away.

Meanwhile, Grace walked over to watch Dwalin in the axe-fighting arena. She sat down next to Balin and watched as dwarves and men shouted encouragement and curses. Bags of coins flew to and fro among the spectators as the fortunes in the arena rose and fell.

"Well, this is a nice treat, Gracie," Balin said, and he squeezed her hand and winked. "I thought you'd be off to see Legolas." She hugged him and smiled.

"You're my family too, Balin," she said, "and I want to support you and Dwalin. Thorin and Bard are with Legolas, so I thought I'd come here. Then we'll watch Bard compete to close out the day. Thorin decided to postpone the other events until tomorrow morning."

Dwarves roared as Dwalin used his ax handle to ram his opponent's stomach.

"So that gives you some extra time, eh Gracie?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

She turned to him alarmed. "How do you know? And how _much_ do you know?"

He chuckled and yelled a curse in Khuzdul. Dwalin barely missed being beheaded by a vicious swing.

"Oy, brother," he yelled, "don't make me the tall one in the family, aye?" Then he turned back to Grace and put his forefinger to his nose.

"The women haven't said a thing about a thing and that tells me everything," he said smartly. Then he started to chuckle. "By Durin, you are a treasure. News of this'll spread throughout the clans, and Thorin will be the most envied and revered king ever."

"Dwarf king, you mean," she said. Balin shook his head.

"No, lass, king of anywhere and of any time," he said. "Win or lose at the table he stands to win because no one else has ever had such a queen."

Grace patted his hand and they laughed together. Then she took a closer look at Dwalin's opponent and sat forward.

"Is that Smelia?" she asked with wide eyes.

Indeed it was. Smelia was arrayed in battle armor, and her thick red hair swung around her as she twirled her axes. Dwalin saw an opening and lunged but fell back after being chested by Smelia's considerable assets. Grace turned to Balin in amazement.

"She never told me she was this good," she said.

Balin scratched his temple awkwardly.

"Aye, Gracie," he said uncomfortably, "Smelia has a number of talents."

Grace nodded, and her lips twisted in amusement.

"Aye, my friend," she said, "that part I know." Then she looked closely at Dwalin's fiendish smile and the gleam in Smelia's eyes. "Um, Balin, this may sound silly, but is this his way of courting her?"

Balin chuckled. "That's what I'd like to know, lass, but my brother has been very tight-lipped about it all—not that he isn't always tight-lipped. In fact, sometimes I wonder if he even has lips." Balin and Grace laughed until they cried and then turned to watch the match. Dwalin finally won, but as they bowed to each other, Smelia kneed him in the chin, and Dwalin left with a belt and stars in his eyes.

Then Legolas, Thorin, and Bard walked over.

"My lady, Bard's up next," Legolas said with a smooth smile and nary a hint of sweat or strain.

"I take it you won easily?" Grace asked. Thorin looked on with great amusement.

"You should have seen him, Grace," he said and then his mouth twitched, "but he did have a little trouble at the end—and his name was Thranduil."

Legolas looked uncomfortable, and Grace tilted her head.

"Don't tell me he won?" she asked. The elf prince shook his head.

"I won, my lady," he said, but then he clenched his fists after Thorin started laughing, "but my father decided to challenge the winner and …"

"… and who would have thought Thranduil so agile and fast," Thorin said while wiping his eyes, "and such a fine archer. I thought he'd lose since he sits on his muscles"—Legolas shot him a hard look, and Thorin quickly cleared his throat—"but he gave our friend here a run for his arrows and beat him by one of his long, blond hairs."

Everyone started laughing while Legolas stood tall and silent.

"Come on, Legolas," Bard said good-naturedly, "you must learn to laugh at yourself; besides, your father earned respect today."

Legolas' lip quirked.

"Well, my friend," he said as he put his hand on Bard's shoulder, "let's see if you earn some yourself. I believe it's your turn."

Bard looked around at the grinning faces.

"Wonderful," he said glumly.

A light rain had started to fall, so no one noticed Tyree, Orel, and Aurelan since every archer had his hood on to keep the rain out of his eyes.

"Are we all agreed to accept whatever comes even if it means death?" Tyree asked solemnly. He still thought that leaving was best, but he too was tired of wandering. "We're betting our lives on Lady Grace's kindness," he thought, "I hope it's enough."

Orel and Aurelan nodded silently. Then they turned to see Thorin and Grace approaching and bowed low.

"Good fortune today rangers," she said, "and we look forward to tonight."

Tyree doffed his hood. "We'll be there, my lady," he said firmly, "and our fortunes are in your hands." He stared into her eyes, willing her to understand. She did not though she knew he meant more than he said. Thorin too caught the undercurrent and looked at him carefully. There was something familiar about him though they had never met, but he bordered on impertinence for staring so long at the queen. "My lord," Tyree said bowing.

Thorin inclined his head and frowned as he walked away. That ranger was trying to say something to Grace, and he did not like it.

All the fighters came to watch the last contest of the day. Bard, Aurelan, and two elves stood to shoot. Thorin shouted for Bard while Grace silently hoped for Aurelan. All archers hit the bull's-eye at 20 yards. All hit the bull's-eye at 30 yards. Only Bard and Aurelan hit the center of a swinging target at 40 yards. The clouds grew darker and everyone heard a rumble of thunder. The tie-breaker was a single target set at 60 yards. The one closest to the bull's-eye would walk away a champion. Bard pulled out his black arrow.

"That's the one that killed Smaug!" "Look, the famous black arrow!" The murmuring grew and then stopped suddenly when Bard pulled back and let fly. The arrow landed so close to dead center that it could not be measured, and the crowd cheered loudly. Aurelan glanced at Tyree and Orel and saw their smiles under their hoods.

"You can do it, Aurie," Tyree encouraged quietly. "You will show them," Orel added softly. She nodded and turned to the target and felt the slight breeze on her face. Then she notched her arrow and let fly. The arrow struck next to Bard's, and the crowd grew quiet. Aurelan's arrow was wedged so close and tight that the judges declared it a draw and asked Bard if he wanted to continue.

He looked up at the sky and smiled.

"No, I don't mind sharing the honors," he said. "Well done young man." He turned to shake his hand when Aurelan pulled off her hood. The crowd gasped, and Bard stared at a striking young woman with long black hair that gleamed like silk. She had large brown eyes that Bard felt looked right through him. Her face was oval with high cheekbones, and she had a strong jaw and dimpled chin. Her nostrils flared angrily, and she lifted her chin and stared around at the men in the crowd as if daring them to say something. She was wiry but full of spirit like a wild, unbroken horse. Thorin's mouth fell open while Grace beamed in delight.

Bard turned to the other two rangers who pulled off their hoods. Orel grinned at Aurelan, but Tyree frowned fiercely at Bard. Then his eyes sought Grace and something she saw in them caught her. It was a plea for help.

"I don't understand," Bard said. "_You_ are Aurelan of Dale, but, but …"

"My brother did not lie, my lord," Aurelan said in a husky voice as she turned to him. "He was merely trying to protect me."

"And all of you rangers are from Dale?" Bard asked confused. Grace took a deep breath. Whatever secret they had was about to be revealed.

Aurelan stood tall and her dark eyes flashed.

"Aye," she said strongly, "we are the descendants of Ored Bardone, Lord High Steward of Dale, and we demand justice!" A flash of lightning and crack of thunder underscored her words.

Grace looked around expectantly while Bard stood in shock. "By Durin," Thorin breathed, "we may have just started a war."

* * *

**What do you think of her? Please review!**


	59. Enemies and Friends

**Chapter 59: Enemies and Friends**

Bard's shock quickly wore off and anger replaced it.

"Arrest them!" he shouted. "They are traitors to Dale and all here." Soldiers from Dale stood at attention and came forward.

Aurelan stepped up to Bard, and he had to steel himself not to react to the fury on her face. She was shaking with rage and her eyes burned into his. Tyree and Orel hurried from where they were to protect her, but she shook her head and flung off their hands.

"We are innocent of any crime," she spat at him, "as was Ored, and we have proof!" Her chest heaved with all the resentment she carried from both her heritage and the mistreatment she endured from men all her life who were attracted to her exotic beauty. Most of the women in Dale were plump, soft, and concerned with domestic duties, but Aurelan stood toe to toe with Bard with the power and grace of a fighter. It was in her gait and bearing, and even though many generations had passed no one could deny that she was of noble blood as were her brothers. All three stood erect and proud with their chins lifted high, and the crowd noted that they did indeed look like the lords and lady they were.

Guards from Dale surrounded them, but Grace took Thorin's hand, and he nodded and stepped forward.

"Bard," he said calmly and diplomatically, "they are now in the realm of Erebor, not Dale, so it is for me to decide what to do with them at present." Then he turned to his soldiers. "Arrest them and take them away under guard to the dungeons."

Bard smiled and nodded, but Tyree looked at Grace with contempt. She lifted her chin and stared calmly into his eyes. When she was sure no one was watching she inclined her head slightly. His brows pinched together in confusion. Then she stepped forward.

"My lords," she said, "despite their arrest I believe Aurelan deserves the prize for her victory today. With your permission?" She looked to Bard first who reluctantly agreed and to her husband who regally nodded.

Grace took the flashing jeweled belt from an attendant and handed it to Aurelan.

"Whatever else archer, you won fairly, and here is your prize," she said with a detached air. Her eyes never looked at Aurelan's, but when she gave her the belt, their fingers brushed each other. Aurelan inhaled sharply and stared at her, but Grace stepped back expressionless.

"Take them away," Thorin ordered.

The soldiers marched their captives to Erebor, and despite the danger of their situation, they could not help but stare in wonder at the opulence of the mountain kingdom. The enormity and wealth of the dwarf kingdom stunned them, and they realized the power that Thorin and Grace wielded. Once the siblings were placed in the cell, the guards left to stand watch outside the door.

"Is this it, Tyree?" Orel asked quietly. "Is it too late to say I'm sorry for not listening to you?"

Tyree rubbed his temple and thought hard. He was canny and resourceful, and he did not know what was happening, but he knew things were not as they appeared. Then he looked at Aurelan who looked thoughtful with her brow furrowed.

"She spoke to me," she said, and she turned to her brothers. "She spoke to me when she touched my fingers. Her voice was in my head saying have no fear."

The brothers looked at her with their eyebrows raised.

"What did she say _exactly_, Aurie?" Tyree said as he touched her arm.

"She said, 'Do not be afraid, child. If you and your brothers are innocent you have nothing to fear.'"

They looked at each other and at Tyree's breast pocket where he kept the letter.

"Do you think it's enough to clear us?" Orel asked hopefully.

"I don't know," he said, and he sat down on the bench to plan.

When Thorin and Grace returned to Erebor, he told her _his_ plan, and he headed to the main council chamber to wait for Bard and Legolas while she hastened to the repository.

"Bring me all the books and scrolls relating to Ored Bardone during the reign of King Girion," she ordered. The scholars ran for the materials and laid them out on the table. She quickly scanned it all.

"Now who was there at the time and can anyone tell us what really happened?" she asked herself. She read through the history, council decisions, and all communiques and documents about the assassination attempt on King Girion. She looked through everything and found nothing to help the Bardones when a dwarf handed her a letter.

"This was between some scrolls, my lady," he said. She took the letter, read it, and sighed in relief. Then she wrote a quick note and called for a messenger.

"Please deliver this to King Thranduil at once."

* * *

Aurelan, Orel, and Tyree sat in silence preparing for their fates when they heard a commotion.

"Aye, my lady," the guard said, and he opened the door to admit Grace.

"Release them to my custody," she ordered. The dwarf reached for his keys but then stopped.

"They might overpower you, my lady," he said nervously, "and if anything should happen to you …." He trailed off as he considered the possible forms of torture his furious king might sentence him to.

Grace patted his shoulder and smiled.

"I'm sure you've seen me fight, Boran, so there is nothing to fear," she said lightly. He nodded and opened the door.

"Quickly now," she said, "we have much to do before you go before the lords."

Tyree held up his hand.

"First, I want to know what you are planning, my lady, before I agree to put my brother and sister in your hands," he said firmly.

Grace admired his strength of character and grinned.

"You need to look the parts you were born to play," she said. "Now hurry, everyone is waiting for you." She led them up a back stairway and gave them over to tailors and groomers. She noted with a smile how she and Thorin had swapped tactics.

"Send for me when you and the others finish, Nera," she said, "and allow no one else in by command of the king."

"Aye, milady," Nera said as she bobbed her head. Then she turned to the Bardones and looked them up and down with a critical eye. "Me lords and lady, we have much work to do so let's get on with it."

Downstairs Bard paced around the council room with his hands behind his back while Thorin and Legolas sat patiently.

"You are bringing them in?" Bard asked.

"I am," Thorin said.

"Then you are releasing them to me to face their sentence?" Bard asked.

"I am not," Thorin said calmly.

Bard stopped pacing and stared at Thorin uncomprehendingly. He clenched his jaw and leaned forward spreading his palms on the granite table.

"Let me understand you correctly," he said angrily. "You are not releasing my prisoners to me as stated in our treaty?"

Thorin looked up at him, his face devoid of expression.

"They claim they are not guilty, and it is a king's duty to make certain of it before he sentences them to death," Thorin said seriously.

"My duty, Thorin, not yours!" Bard shouted. "How dare you overrule my authority in my own land!"

"I remind you that they were apprehended in Erebor, not Dale," Legolas broke in gently, "and I fear my friend that you are letting your emotions cloud your judgement."

Just then the door opened and Bard turned to see a heartbreakingly beautiful woman step into the room followed by two impressive men. It took a moment for Bard to realize that they were the travel-worn and mud-splattered prisoners of only a few hours ago.

Aurelan was glowing in a red velvet gown with a wide v-neck in front and back that showed off her elegant carriage and lovely shoulders. The dress revealed her slim figure to best advantage. She was much thinner and less curvaceous than Grace, but that only made her seem more vulnerable, and despite Bard's anger he felt an inexplicable protectiveness sweep through him. Her sleek black hair was gathered into an elegant twist, and she wore a matchless blood-red ruby on a gold chain around her throat and her victor's belt around her hips. Bard's mouth opened and closed, and he tried to speak, but no words came out, and he turned to her brothers who stood with her.

Tyree wore a pale blue silk tunic that clung to strong shoulders and trim waist. He too was thin, thinner than most men his height, but there was no denying that he was a powerful man in body and spirit. His look was severe, and his pale blue eyes stared challengingly at Bard's. He was several years younger than Bard, but his life of wandering and running with his brother and sister sat hard upon him, and Bard saw his fear for them and his determination to plead their case even if it cost him his life.

Next Bard looked at Orel. He was as dark as Aurelan, but with curly brown hair that fell in a boyish mop about his face. His large brown eyes eyed Bard solemnly, but Bard could tell from the curl of his lip and the crinkles around his eyes that Orel was the encourager, always ready with a light moment and quick joke to stave off despair. He wore a dark green tunic, and though of a slightly smaller stature than Tyree, his hand on his brother's shoulder and protective stance next to his sister told Bard that though he was naturally merry he would easily kill for his family or die for them.

All at once Bard doubted their guilt, and his doubt made him angrier, so he turned on Grace who stepped quietly into the room after them.

"What is this, my lady?" he said bitingly, "dressing up my prisoners so they look good for their public execution tomorrow?"

Thorin ground his teeth, but he stuck to their plan, and she answered for herself.

"No, Bard," she said respectfully, "They are dressed according to their station. I thought it might help you see what you and Dale would lose if they are truly innocent as they claim."

"You side against me then?" he asked incredulously. "You would put their interests before those of your friend?"—he glanced at Thorin—"before your best friend?" Thorin's anger started to rise, but Legolas put his hand on his arm and shook his head.

"I side with the truth, Bard," she said calmly, "as I always have." The Bardones watched in shock at her challenging her friend and ally. "Every ruler needs to put his feelings aside and seek out the truth wherever it leads. Do you want to know the truth, Bard, or are you that eager to take their lives?"

Bard fumed but said nothing. Then Thorin stood up and walked over to Grace.

"I agree Bard," he said, "and I stand with Grace and the Bardones—not because I believe them innocent, they still have to prove that—but because they deserve the chance to try." Tyree, Orel, and Aurelan listened with growing amazement and were astonished that Thorin and Grace were willing to risk war for them.

Bard drew himself up to his full height.

"If you would side with my enemies then you are not my friends," he said strongly.

The tension was palpable, and Thorin directed the Bardones to wait outside.

"Well, Bard, it seems that we changed places," Thorin remarked after they left. "I thought I was the pig-headed one."

Bard glared at him.

"Stop being a dolt, Bard," Legolas said. All looked to him in amazement at such words coming from his mouth, but he smiled mirthlessly. "It is only your pride and you know it. You are new to ruling and making decisions like this and you are not thinking clearly. You have your doubts now. We all do. That is why we must be certain. Do you want the killing of an innocent family on your conscience?"

Thorin walked over and put his hand on Bard's stiff shoulder.

"You helped me when I had hurt Grace," he said softly. "You risked my anger to help your friend, your best friend, and that is what we are doing now."

Grace smiled at Bard's now troubled face.

"My friend," she said gently, "you told me that you searched for years for other survivors of noble birth and in despair you thought yourself alone. Now here are three from the family ranked second to yours and seasoned fighters besides. If they are innocent think of how they can help you expand your influence and bear your burdens. Do not tempt regret, Bard."

Aurelan's lovely face came into his mind, and he sat down heavily. "These are a lot of ifs," he said. Then he looked at his friends and finally smiled at their obvious love and concern.

"If you thought they may be innocent, Thorin, why did you have them arrested and sent to the dungeons?" he asked.

Thorin chuckled and then grew serious.

"Because that is what you ordered, and I would never undermine your authority before your people," he said. "You need respect to rule as much as authority."

Bard dropped his head and then looked up under his lashes at Thorin who had wisely supported him while making sure that the Bardones were not harmed.

"You are truly a great king, and I have much to learn from you," he said. "Very well, I will listen to their story and other evidence, but," and he looked around at them all, "if I decide that it is right and just for me to order their execution will I have your support?"

The others looked around at each other and nodded immediately.

"Aye," Thorin said, "we will stand with you and watch their heads fall in the square if you are not convinced. That is your right and what the law of Dale demands, and if you find them guilty we will all see it through." Legolas nodded grimly.

Bard took a deep breath.

"Show them in then," he said, "and I will listen to what they have to say."

* * *

**How am I doing on the drama meter?**


	60. Reconciliation, Part 1

**Chapter 60: Reconciliation, Part 1**

**I feel that the last chapter was a bit out of character, so I made some slight changes.**

* * *

The door opened, and the Bardones walked in to hear their fate. Aurelan was a strong young woman, but events over the past few days took their toll, and Bard's angry and sarcastic words rang loudly in her head. Suddenly, all the terrible events of her life pressed up against her, and she started trembling. Tyree and Orel stood stiffly with their arms around her. She gazed at the floor while Tyree and Orel searched the faces of those seated for some inking of what was coming. Bard, Thorin, Grace, and Legolas all looked grim, but a slight curling of Thorin's lip and minute softening in Grace's eyes told them that they had a chance, and they visibly relaxed. Orel patted Aurelan's shoulder and rubbed her upper arm. Bard was moved by their love and loyalty to each other and their devotion to her, but he frowned when Tyree placed his arm around her waist and splayed his hand on her stomach. A strong twinge of jealousy pinched his heart, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"You say you have evidence of your family's innocence," he said. "I will hear it now."

Tyree gently disengaged himself from Aurelan, and Orel pulled her closer to him. Bard cleared his throat in irritation.

"I have a letter from Ored Bardone that has been passed down from father to son," Tyree said, and he pulled out a piece of folded vellum from his tunic and laid it flat on the table. "With your permission I will read it to you."

Bard nodded.

"To my family, my kin, and all my descendants,

Words cannot express the pain I feel at the banishment of myself and my family from our homeland. We Bardones have lived in Dale since its founding and have loyally contributed to its growth and prosperity for centuries. During that time we were honored with increasing responsibility and rank until we were second only to the king himself. But the joy of our hearts was always in the service we rendered to Dale and the friendships we forged, and that is the true treasure we leave behind.

I was found guilty of plotting to kill the king, my closest friend and companion since boyhood, without the chance to prove my innocence. I was astonished that it could even be believed, but I have learned that those hungering for power will stop at nothing to attain it and those in power often forget who their friends are."

Bard glanced over at Thorin and Legolas and frowned.

"I am not guilty of the charge. I realize that my innocence is of little consequence now, but I write this hoping that one day my descendants will prove our worth and be allowed to return to our dear home. There was a plot against the king, and I was betrayed because it was I who discovered unexplained incidences that jeopardized his health and well-being including cut saddle girths and loosened stones on his private balcony.

When I was accused, the king chose to sacrifice me rather than accept the truth that it was his twin brother, Enron, who wanted him dead. Born only two minutes after Girion, yet doomed forever to be prince, Enron nursed his grudge until it bore fruit. He spoke out against me, and the king chose blood over bond, a bitter draught for me to swallow.

To my descendants, I charge that you trust no one in power unless they value truth above all; otherwise, they will forget their friends when it suits their purposes. Enron convinced Girion to send word to Gondor and other civilized lands warning them against us, so I have condemned you all to a bitter life in the wilds until those in power forget. I grieve especially for the women of my family. My lovely wife, Vondala, the jewel of Dale, lies dying of illness and despair, and you daughters who share her beauty will face unspeakable dangers until we are freed. Fathers, sons, and brothers, I charge you to protect with your dying breath your mothers, sisters, and daughters until we can bring them safely home.

Despite my banishment, I hold no hatred in my heart toward Girion, and at first I worried that Enron might try again, but now I have heard that both Dale and Erebor are lost to a cursed dragon. My city lies in ruins and my heart along with it. I wish now for death, but I must carry on for the sake of my sons. May you, my grand-children and great-grandchildren, one day rebuild our city and live happily within its walls.

Farewell,

Ored Bardone"

No one spoke after Tyree stopped reading, but Aurelan cried silently. Tears filled her thick lashes and started rolling down her cheeks. Orel turned her toward him, hugged her tightly, and stroked her back. Bard grimaced and clenched his jaw. Grace's eyes glistened, and Legolas leaned forward as he considered what he heard. Thorin ran his hands over his face, turned to Bard, and raised his brows.

"This is powerful testimony," Bard said slowly as he tore his eyes away from Aurelan, "but it is not proof." Then he looked up at Tyree. "Do you have _proof_?"

Tyree hesitated with his hands held open, and then Thorin spoke.

"I sent Grace to the repository to see if we had anything that might prove Ored's innocence," and he nodded to her.

"And I found something," she said, "a record of a letter to King Girion warning him of the plot to kill him."

Tyree's eyes widened in surprise, and Orel broke into a grin. He held Aurelan away from him and lifted up her chin with his fingers.

"Have no fear," he whispered, and she sniffled and wiped her eyes. She nodded to him and turned around, using the back of her hands to wipe her cheeks. Then she stood apart, trying to act composed, and Bard's breath hitched in his chest to see her looking so childlike and exposed. He knew then that he could not order their deaths, not send her to her death, and he fervently hoped that this letter would be enough to acquit them.

Bard took the record from Grace and read it intently. Tyree and Orel glanced at each other, and Bard's face darkened as he read about the plot to kill the king.

"There is a mark but no signature. Who wrote the letter?" he asked. A voice at the door answered.

"I did."

All turned to see Thranduil. The dwarf who ushered him in bowed and left, and Thranduil walked into the room, his green silk robes flaring about his legs. The brothers bowed and Aurelan curtsied, but Thranduil's eyes widened when he saw her face.

"Vondala!" he whispered.

He walked over to her and gently took her hand. She looked nervous and her brothers wary.

"Forgive me, my dear," he said, "but you look so like her, and she reminded me of my late wife in her joy and spirit. Dale lost its best when they were banished, but perhaps it was a blessing since you all survived."

Bard stood and bowed to Thranduil, and Legolas smiled at his father. Thorin's lip quirked, and Grace grinned in relief.

"My lord," Bard said, "this letter from Ored Bardone states that he was innocent, and that Enron, the king's brother, was the true culprit."

"That is true," Thranduil said, and his lips twisted in contempt. "Ored Bardone was a just and noble man who served his lord and friend well. Enron, however, was a wastrel, wanting all the trappings of power and none of its responsibilities or obligations. Some of my soldiers overheard him plotting in a pub and reported it to me. I wrote to Girion to warn him, but he chose to ignore the information."

Bard turned to Legolas.

"You knew nothing of this?" he asked.

Thranduil answered for him. "He was away at Rivendell at the time, if you remember, my son." A light dawned in Legolas' eyes, and he nodded.

"I knew Ored but not well," Thorin said, stroking his beard. "Father had sent me on a trade mission to the Iron Hills, and when I came back, when I came back home …." He stopped, and Grace took his hand, and he held her fingers tightly.

"Ored and his family were banished shortly before Smaug came," Thranduil said. "I made inquiries, but he had disappeared with his family."

Bard took a deep breath. It was not enough for him think them innocent, the city council also must agree if the Bardones had any chance of being welcomed back to Dale.

Thranduil looked askance at Bard.

"Why is this even important now?" he asked. "It was so long ago and surely Ored's descendants aren't answerable even if he was guilty."

Bard sighed.

"Just as Smaug is the scourge of Erebor, Ored Bardone is considered the scourge of Dale," he said quietly, ignoring Tyree's snort of disgust. "Our repository, like Erebor's, was built deep in the rock and was untouched. When Dale was resettled we required all returning citizens to look through the law books and city records so they could relearn our history and laws. They all know what happened as if it took place yesterday."

Aurelan stifled a gasp, Tyree's face hardened, and Orel pressed his lips together.

Do you think us innocent, my lord?" Tyree asked directly.

Bard looked at Aurelan, his face soft and expression tender though she did not see it.

"I do," he said.

Orel grinned and Tyree nodded shortly. Aurelan took a deep breath but her brow furrowed and she still looked troubled.

"In that case, my lord, I ask you to write a letter to that fact, so that we may leave and settle for good in Gondor," Tyree said with determination. "The king is ill and will die soon, and I hear that Prince Larin is an honorable man."

Anger flashed across Bard's face, and the rest looked surprised. Grace touched Thorin's hand.

"He fears going back now, my love," she said silently, "he fears they will not be accepted."

"I know," he replied, "but we will all stand with them as we did with Thranduil if they wish.

They looked up to see Bard and Tyree squaring off.

"Are you saying I have no honor?" Bard challenged. Tyree's eyes narrowed.

"No, I simply believe we resemble our ancestors," he said coolly.

Bard's chest heaved. "So you think that I would ignore the truth and sentence innocent people to death out of pride and sentiment?" he fumed.

"Did you not already?" Tyree shot back. "If not for the king and queen of Erebor our heads would be hanging on Dale's main gate by now!"

His accusation stung, and Bard put his hands on his hips and glared at him.

"I admit I was wrong, but I'm willing to own to it," he said angrily. "There is no dishonor in that!"

"It matters not now," Tyree said heatedly. "Dale is no longer the place for us. How can we possibly live there with such animosity? I won't bring Aurelan there."

Bard saw the truth of his concerns but refused to accept them as reasons for leaving. Jealousy burned in his chest at the thought of Aurelan being taken away by a man—even if that man was her brother.

Orel stepped in between them and put up his hands.

"Tyree, we need to talk about this as a family," he said tightly "and now is not the time."

"Stay out of this, Orel, my decision is final!"

"Oh, have done!" Aurelan cried, and she rushed out the door. Bard, Tyree, and Orel turned in dismay and all started after her, but Thranduil raised his hand and stepped in front of them.

"Leave her be," he said severely. "You have done quite enough." He turned to Thorin.

"I know my way around Erebor well enough, Lord Thorin," he said. "I will take care of her since you probably need to stay to sort them out." Then he frowned at Bard and Tyree who looked both frantic and crestfallen.

"Now you dolts find common ground," Thranduil commanded sternly as he wagged his finger at each of them, "or you will see her leaving for an extended stay at Mirkwood, and you will not be allowed to visit." Then he swept out of the room and left everyone flabbergasted.

Thorin and Grace raised their eyebrows at Legolas who shrugged.

"We learned it from Dwalin," he said.

* * *

Thranduil found Aurelan at the rock garden after he had come across Nera.

"Aye, my lord," she had said, "the lass is in tears. She has great spirit, but the poor lamb has been through too much, so I walked her to the rock garden to catch her breath."

"My lady," Thranduil said softly as he approached her cautiously. She was sitting on the bench where Thorin proposed to Grace, and she immediately leapt off it at the sound of his voice and shied away, searching the area for exits. Her eyes looked haunted and desperate, and Thranduil knew at once what had happened to her. He raised his hands as he walked toward her.

"You have nothing to fear here, child," he said. "No one will hurt you here; within this kingdom you are safe."

She put her hand to her throat to calm herself.

"Of course, my lord" she said, and she tried to straighten up and make herself presentable and curtsey, but Thranduil waved that away.

"No, my dear, you do not believe it," he said sorrowfully, "because what has happened to you has stolen your innocence and your faith."

Her mouth fell open and she stepped toward him with her fists clenched.

"My brothers!" she cried. "Did my brothers tell you of, of ..." but she trailed off at Thranduil's slow shake of his head.

"No one shared any of your secrets, my child," he said softly, "but it's only too easy to imagine what could happen to a beautiful child and young woman around uncivilized men in the wild."

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**Let me know how you think things are progressing and please review!**


	61. Reconciliation, Part 2

**My dear readers, Aurelan shares her life in this chapter, and it's not pretty. It's not graphic, but I warn young readers and readers with sensitive hearts that it deals with what I'm sure you all learned from the last chapter. Just as disturbing is even today in many parts of the world, women who have been assaulted and abused are considered guilty of inviting the crime and are ostracized and even killed. I hope you are encouraged to see a better example here. Let me know what you think. This was a hard chapter for me to write. **

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**Chapter 61: Reconciliation, Part 2**

Thorin, Grace, and Legolas watched the three men argue until Thorin had had enough.

"Shazara!" he thundered as he jumped to his feet. His chair slid back and crashed against the wall. All fighting stopped as the men looked at him in surprise. "This is like Fili and Kili at their worst," he muttered, and he rubbed the furrow in his brow.

"I want to talk to the Bardones, Bard," he said, and he faced the brothers and told them to sit.

"Now why did you come to the games?" he asked as he paced around the table with his hands behind his back.

Tyree glared at Bard, but Orel smiled.

"Aurie wanted to compete, my lord," he said. His expression warmed and his eyes shined as he talked about his sister. "She is a natural archer and with Lord Bard the finest in the land," he added proudly. Then he paused, and the proud smile slowly disappeared. "She has not been treated well by men, my lord, and she wanted to prove herself equal to them despite the danger of coming back. She … needed to." That last he said softly, almost to himself, but the others heard clearly enough.

He stopped talking, and Thorin, Legolas, and Bard studied their faces while tears welled in Grace's eyes. Tyree sighed, and the brothers dropped their heads in their hands, and Orel pressed his palms against his eyes. Thorin stopped pacing. The muscles of his face tightened, and he bit the inside of his mouth. He caught Grace's eyes, and she pressed her lips together and nodded while Bard and Legolas shared a sober glance. People mourn what has been lost and, without Orel saying anything more, everyone now knew what had happened to Aurelan.

"We wanted to come home, to see if we _could_ come home, but that is impossible now," he said sadly.

"Orel, you said too much!" Tyree snapped. "Now we must away. We must leave tonight."

Orel nodded without argument. "Aye," he said. "There is no going home."

Tyree looked over at Bard. "The letter, if you please, my lord," he said stiffly. "I'm sure you now see why we wouldn't want to subject her to any more mistreatment."

Thorin put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

"No," he said firmly. "You've run long enough. It's time to face life, and you can do it with friends by your side."

"What friends?" Tyree scoffed. He glanced over at Bard and all saw his bitter resentment in the tight lines of his face. Then he addressed Thorin and Grace. "I mean no disrespect to you, my lord. We are very grateful to you and the queen for your help today. We never believed that such nobility and honor existed, and you have restored our faith. However, we could not burden you with a request to live here." Then he turned to Legolas. "Or Mirkwood."

Bard ground his teeth at Tyree's veiled insults, but he held his tongue.

"If I didn't dislike him so much we could be friends," he thought. Then his mind turned to Aurelan, and his heart clenched as he thought on the fear and agony she endured. The tips of his ears turned red as his mind turned to the men who had hurt her, and fire spread through his chest into his gut. All at once he felt a powerful urge to grab Aurelan, carry her on his horse to Dale, and put her behind thick walls. The words of Legolas and Grace sounded in his head, and he realized with dismay that somehow he had fallen in love with Aurelan, even as he tried to have her and her brothers executed.

"What a mess I've made of things," he thought morosely. "I met the first woman I ever loved saving her life and the last woman I'll ever love trying to kill her."

He sighed deeply and shifted in his seat. His eyes settled again on Tyree. He took Aurelan's pain to heart, Bard thought, and yet he did not blame her or treat her with disgust though Bard knew men who would.

"He is honorable and loves Aurelan deeply," he said to himself. "I understand that at least. Perhaps that is our common ground."

Legolas spoke up.

"That is not necessary. We will stand with you," he said, and he gestured to Bard on one side and Thorin and Grace on the other. ""We did for my father as you saw. We all forgave him for many more years of hurt and pain than you experienced today."

Tyree grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest while Orel looked sideways at his brother and exhaled in frustration.

"We need to think about what's best for Aurie, Tyree," he said slowly. "Is it best to go to Gondor, a land that is not our home and where we know no one, or have our name cleared and build a new life with friends who have already risked so much for us?"

The elder Bardone frowned and bent his head, and the long locks of his sandy hair fell forward, obscuring his face. He breathed quietly for several minutes while everyone waited. Then he cast a sidelong glance at Orel, who smiled slightly and tilted his head toward the others.

"You always were more optimistic than me," Tyree said with a hint of wry humor. His brother laughed.

"That's because we needed hope," he said.

Tyree faced Bard, and Bard met his gaze calmly.

"What's your interest in this, my lord?" he asked, "other than trying to have us killed? Clearing our names brings you nothing, and you already have able administrators I'm sure. It can't be Aurelan now that you know her past."

Bard repressed the urge to argue and instead put his arm on the table toward Tyree with his hand open.

"I cannot and will not hold Aurelan guilty for the actions of others, nor will I treat her differently than I would treat any honorable woman," he said strongly. "Her past matters not to me apart from ensuring her well-being. I want what is best for all my citizens and that includes your family. As if happens, Ored's position is vacant. It is yours if you want it, but"—he smiled slightly and then turned serious—"you all must swear loyalty to myself and Dale and work hard to rebuild it. I value different opinions, but I will not tolerate disloyalty. For your loyalty and service I will restore your family's honor and position."

Orel made an eager sound, and Tyree exhaled slowly. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, but much of his resentment dissipated with Bard's words. For Aurelan to be honored by the lord himself was more than adequate, it was gracious and noble. This Tyree could not dismiss lightly. It occurred to him that perhaps he had been just as hasty in judging Bard as Bard was with them. He dropped his arm on the table toward Bard along with his guard.

"I would do anything for Aurelan," he said. "If she agrees, and you restore our name and honor, we would be grateful to come home."

Everyone else breathed again, and Bard and Orel smiled widely and straightened eagerly in their chairs.

Then the door opened, and King Thranduil walked in. The brothers and Bard immediately stood and asked to see her.

"You need to speak to her now," Thranduil said motioning to Bard. Tyree frowned and clenched his fists.

"Why him?" he asked angrily.

The elf king tilted his head and appraised Tyree.

"Because he has to undo what he has done," he said turning to look pointedly at Bard. He nodded and walked out the door. Thranduil went with him.

"She is a wonderful young woman," he said quietly, "but she has been deeply hurt in the way only a girl or woman can be. Do you understand?"

Bard nodded with his head down. "I know."

Thranduil put his hand on Bard's shoulder and gripped it hard. "So you must be very careful with her," he said. "What you say and do not say will make all the difference in her life." He stopped at the door to the rock garden. "And yours I think." Then he smiled and left.

Bard took several deep breaths before he entered. She whipped around, her now unbound hair flying about her. She put a hand on her chest and wrapped the other around her stomach. The hand on her chest held a rock.

"My lady," he said gently. "I've come to apologize and beg your forgiveness."

She stiffened and took a step closer. "Are you saying that we are free to leave?"

"Aye, I am," he said as he approached slowly and sat on the bench. "But I promised your brothers that I would clear your family name and allow you all to return to Dale with honor and your family position if you wish."

She dropped her arms but held the rock tightly.

"Our honor," she said softly. She cast her eyes on the ground, "but I have no honor." A sob escaped her, and she dropped the rock and put her hands over her face.

Bard did not know what to do. To reveal her secret seemed wrong, and to hold her was impossible, but Bard was a man of action, and sitting on a bench watching her cry was unacceptable. He stood quickly and put his hand on her shoulder.

"My lady," he said, "your honor comes from _your_ actions."

She looked at him then and saw clearly from his face that he knew, that they all knew. She felt naked before him and wished suddenly to throw herself over the balcony. Death seemed preferable than the burning shame that stained her cheeks scarlet, and she backed away in panic toward the edge of the garden overlooking a rocky ridge many feet down. He saw her look over the low railing and back at him, and he realized what she was thinking, so he rushed forward, pulled her away from the edge, and wrapped his arms around her. She fought him kicking and hitting at his head.

"Aurelan! Aurelan!" he cried as he struggled to keep hold of her. "I'm not trying to hurt you. Please believe me!" He trapped her arms against his chest and pulled her to him and locked his arms around her. "It was never your fault! It was _never_ your fault!" Finally, she collapsed against him crying and screaming out her pain until she whimpered and sagged against him.

"Life is too precious to throw away," he said into her soft ear. "You are too precious," he whispered. She put her head on his broad shoulder and sobbed. Bard felt more kingly than he ever had before, and he stroked her soft hair and rocked her in his arms. A smile broke out on his face as he felt her arms slowly find their way around him. Never before, not even with Grace, did he feel such joy. He felt complete. When she had no more tears to shed, she stepped away with her head bowed. He felt her loss at once and kept his arms open hoping she would return.

"You aren't disgusted by me?" she asked in a choked whisper.

"No, my lady," Bard said kindly, "none of us are. We are only hurt and grieved that this happened to you. You are not to blame for the crimes of others." He led her to the bench and they sat down. He waited for many minutes while she calmed down and could finally look him in the face. Her beautiful, almond-shaped shaped eyes lifted to his, trying to discern if he told the truth.

"Your brothers did not tell us what had happened, Aurelan," he said carefully, "but we could tell by how they talked what took place, and that is all we ever need to know, my lady. You are to us as if nothing had happened."

Aurelan shook her head. "Your offer is very generous, but would you not always wonder what happened? Would you not wonder when you looked at me? I will consider your offer only if you hear everything. Then if you still think I am worthy to return to Dale, I will gladly accept your offer."

Bard panicked at the thought of listening to what he knew would be excruciatingly painful.

"Would it not be best for Lady Grace to hear this instead?" he asked. Immediately, he knew had made a mistake. Her eyes narrowed, and she stiffened and turned away.

"I see," she said harshly, "you're willing to restore our honor but only on the condition that I keep what happened to me quiet, keep it neatly and cleanly buried so I can pose as one who has honor."

"No!" he said, "that's not what I meant!" He ran his hands though his hair. "I don't want you to share what will surely pain you and, frankly, I'm afraid of how angry I'll be at the men who hurt you, and I don't want that to scare you."

Aurelan's eyebrows rose as she considered his words, and she looked at him skeptically. He was a tall and very handsome man to be sure with long, curly black hair; straight nose; strong chin and jaw; and penetrating eyes so dark as to look black, but was he a man of his word? She stared at his eyes and inhaled sharply to see his lashes wet with tears. No man other than her brothers had ever shed a tear for her and yet now one slowly made its way down his cheek. She looked at it in wonder and reached out her hand to touch his face and feel his tear on her fingers. He took her hand and gently squeezed it. Then he carefully placed it back in her lap and and nodded. He sat quietly while she began to tell him of her life.

"I was eight when I saw my parents burn to death in a fire after orcs raided our village," she said. "I didn't even have the time to take my stuffed doll that mum made for me for my birthday. She looked just like me with black hair and a green dress with tiny black shoes." She sniffled a bit and then continued. "Tyree and Orel left me with my aunt while they trained as rangers, and a man started bringing us meat and fish. My aunt was so grateful and even thought she had an admirer for a few months. But then the man came and talked to her outside the front door one day. They thought I wasn't listening, but I was. He brought her the meat but in return he wanted me. I didn't understand then, but my aunt slapped him across the face."

Aurelan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Several years passed and I caught the man watching me. Sometimes he would just stop and stare. One day he saw me take a short cut behind a building and tried to force himself on me. I fought back but he was too strong. He would have done all that he wanted to, but he heard some women coming, and he loosened his hold on me and I ran. After that I never left the hut without my aunt. When she died I knew he would come for me, so I left with my brothers for the wild. I was excited to leave and we all thought I would be safer with them, but we were wrong. I was fifteen when we were hunting in the woods and I came across two other hunters. They grabbed me, and one held me down while the other …" She stopped and took a deep, ragged breath and started shaking.

"You don't need to say anymore, Aurelan," Bard said. She rubbed both of her palms on her dress. He waited until her palms were dry and then took each of her hands and kissed them.

"I need to now," she said. "Then I can finish and put it away." He nodded.

"The one who held me down told me that we exist for their sport," she said. "They, they hurt me badly, but my brothers came and pulled them off me. Tyree killed the first man while Orel held the second. I made him take back everything he said to me and then Orel killed him."

Bard stood up and hugged himself. He tried to still the angry pounding of his heart and the bloodlust that throbbed through his veins. All his muscles tightened and he rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in them.

"Thank the stars she's done," he thought, "I don't think I can take anymore."

"Other men tried later," she said, "but we were ready then and we killed them all. The last one was six months ago."

He turned and stared at her aghast at all they had been through. She sat on the bench staring at the ground and waiting for his verdict. He got down on his knees before her and tipped up her chin to make her look him in the eyes.

"I swear to you that while I live and breathe l will give my life to protect yours," he said with the power and majesty of a king. "Your honor is intact because you never lost it."

She stared into his eyes until her chin started quivering.

"Then I want to come home."

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**"Shazara" is Khuzdul for "silence." **


	62. Author's Note 3

**Sorry to get your hopes up dear readers with the expectation of another chapter, but I'm stuck here and need a little help from you all. Does Aurelan walk back into the room with Bard and everyone is serious and quiet, or does she walk into the room and see them all at ease and laughing and she wants to be part of that? Or does something else entirely happen? I'm not sure where to go from the last chapter, although I have several chapters beyond this already planned. But for now, I need your help on what happens next.**

**Best,**

**Lillian**


	63. The Winners Take All

**Thank you all for your wonderful suggestions! All wanna be writers need help from honest readers. I think I've incorporated most of your suggestions, and others will find their way in later chapters. **

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**Chapter 63: The Winners Take All**

Bard got off his knees and stood before Aurelan.

"How is this going to happen?" she asked softly. He stroked his mustache and beard while he thought through the details.

"I will call the council members together in the morning and bring them to Erebor," he said. "Then we all will meet with King Thranduil and Legolas, your brothers, and King Thorin and Lady Grace. We will announce your innocence to everyone, and I will send letters to Gondor, Rohan, and anywhere else that Enron's poison reached. You're welcome to join us if you choose, although we'd understand if you wish to rest tomorrow. It's been a long day for you."

She shook her head. "For us all," she countered. "I don't want pity. I'm not weak."

"My lady," he said in gentle rebuke. She looked up at him breathless. He could have said, "my love" instead, his tone was so soft and full of feeling.

"None of us thinks that, but you have borne more today than anyone, and if you _need_ to rest we understand," he said.

She stood and looked into his eyes. He wanted to take her face in his hands and kiss her, but he knew that she had no feelings for him—yet—so instead he clasped his hands behind his back.

"They really are your friends, aren't they?"

"Aye," he said without hesitation. "Like you, my lady, I lost my family long ago, and Thorin and Legolas are like brothers to me. We help each other"—he cleared his throat and grimaced—"and even when I'm acting, um, like a fool, they love me enough not to lose faith in me."

"And the Lady Grace?" she asked. At her name, he stiffened awkwardly and looked down.

"You love her, don't you?" Aurelan asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," he answered, "I did from the moment I met her. We all did."

"You all?" she asked incredulously. "Legolas as well?"

He nodded. "And Prince Larin of Gondor."

She stepped back stunned.

"And King Thorin knew?" He nodded again, and she put her hands on her hips.

"I don't understand," she said. "Didn't he challenge you to combat? She must have worn his braids by then."

Bard chuckled as he recalled what happened not so long ago.

"Therians are creatures of great power," he said. "Her touch is the most exhilarating thing a man can feel. She is able to touch the heart of any honorable man, elf, or dwarf and make him want nothing else but to be in her presence. All thoughts of wealth and power fade away where she stands. In time she helped me to love her as a dear friend instead, but I admit that there were tense moments with Thorin until we all understood that we couldn't help ourselves."

Aurelan inhaled eagerly and almost bounced on the balls of her feet like a little girl.

"Is it magic?" she asked, her eyes lively and her mouth open with excitement.

"No," Bard said slowly, "no. It's … love. It's a love so rich and deep that you never want to be away from it. It's not magic; it's a gift of her people. She lives for love and truth and cares not for politics or borders. She is the one who brought us together. I guess by loving her we learned to love each other."

"They were willing to risk war with you for the truth," she said. "My brothers and I have never seen such courage."

Bard rubbed the side of his face and flushed in embarrassment.

"Aye," he said grudgingly. "That was not my finest moment. I thought I was doing what was right, but I was wrong, and they fought for me as well as with me. We did the same for Thorin, and we'll do the same for Legolas if we ever see him sweat."

She giggled, and he looked down at her with surprise and delight.

"Thank you for your help tonight, my lord," she said. "You've been more than kind to me. I'll never forget it for as long as I live."

Bard watched enchanted as her beauty broke forth in a wide, natural smile that made his heart glow.

"I want her to smile like that at me for the rest of my life," he thought, and he bowed gallantly and kissed her hand.

"Are you ready to rejoin the others, my lady?" he asked. "I'm sure your brothers are concerned."

She frowned.

"Yes," she said. "Tyree doesn't like me out of his sight. We'd best go back, but …" and she put her hand on his arm, "I'm not 'my lady,' so you can call me Aurelan."

Bard shook his head.

"You are a lady in every way," he said. "I will call you by your name if you wish but only if you call me Bard for not too long ago I was simply an archer like yourself."

Then he held out his arm. "It would be my honor," he said.

They walked back to the main council chamber, and Bard understood then the gleam in Thorin's eye whenever he strolled through Erebor with Grace. Dwarves stopped and stared as the perfectly matched couple walked by. Bard smiled with utter contentment, and a new light shone in his eyes. The serious, quiet man was seriously in love, and his only problem was that he had to be quiet about it.

As they approached the door, Aurelan stopped and bit her lip.

"They think nothing less of you, Aurelan," he said guessing her thoughts, "and they won't treat you differently, I promise you."

He opened the door for her and they quietly walked into the cavernous room.

She stepped inside to see an unexpectedly domestic scene at the far end of the long table. King Thranduil rocked Saraya in his arms while Grace bounced Theran on her lap. He cooed and squealed while waving his plump arms around and dribbling spit on the cloth around his neck. Saraya stared at Thranduil and reached out to pat his cheek. He leaned closer, entranced, and then she grabbed his nose and tweaked it hard. He yelped with surprise and pain.

"Revenge at last Thranduil!" Thorin shouted. "For honor and for Erebor!" and laughter bounded off the walls. Thranduil yanked his nose away and felt it gingerly with his fingers.

Orel chuckled at the scene, but Tyree was more circumspect, and he sat back and watched carefully.

"She has tremendous strength, my lady," Thranduil said. He winced and looked down at the plump blond bundle. "Does she get that from you or Thorin?"

Grace sat primly with Theran who started gumming her diamond necklace.

"Do you want a political answer or a truthful one, my lord?" she asked archly.

Thranduil eyed her and grinned.

"A political one, my lady," he said smiling widely.

She cast her eyes at her husband and then walked over and plopped Theran on Tyree's lap. He looked up in surprise and held Theran awkwardly, but the fat dwarfling did not mind and picked up Tyree's thumb and stuck it in his mouth.

"I hope you don't mind, Tyree," she said before he could answer. "My arms are tired." Then she turned to Thranduil.

"Why dwarves are renowned for their strength, my lord, what other answer could there possibly be?" she said slyly.

Thranduil and Legolas chuckled at Thorin's disgruntled face.

Then they all saw Aurelan standing with Bard at the door, and Orel and Tyree stood with worried eyes and hastened to her.

"Forgive me, Aurie," Tyree said. He tried to hug her, but Theran would not give up his thumb. Orel finally loosened the dwarfling's grip and took him from his brother, and Tyree hugged Aurelan and smoothed her hair. "I'm so sorry, Aurie," he said with remorse.

Orel hovered, waiting his turn, but Theran started squirming. When Aurelan saw everyone else watching at her quietly, her smile faded, and she looked up at Bard. He smiled reassuringly.

Just then Theran fussed loudly and reached out his sticky hands to Aurelan.

"That is Prince Theran, my dear," Grace said warmly, "Don't worry about dropping him. He's so fat he'd probably bounce back up." Thorin smiled in agreement.

Aurelan took Theran from Orel, and Bard stood behind her and put one hand on her shoulder as he smiled down at the plump prince. Theran burbled cheerfully, and those at the table all recognized Bard's happiness and the rightness of Aurelan and Bard together.

"Again, very well-played indeed, my lady," Legolas said to Grace in a low voice. She smiled gleefully and quietly clapped her hands together**. **Thorin and Thranduil shared a mischievous look.

"Do you have any ideas for my son, my lady?" Thranduil asked quietly.

Thorin chortled at the look of indignation on the elf prince's face.

"I am perfectly capable of conducting my own affairs, father," he said with dignity.

"What affairs, Legolas?" Thorin asked and slapped his knee laughing.

Legolas snorted, and they all looked back at the door. Tyree and Orel sat back down, but Aurelan and Bard stayed, both transfixed by the bubbly prince.

"I'll take him back, my dear," Grace said. "I don't want him to tire you out. He's quite a package."

Theran patted Aurelan's cheeks and then grabbed her face and planted a sloppy kiss square on her mouth. Aurelan squeaked in surprise, and everyone else's mouth opened in shock.

"Theran!" Grace cried as she hurried around the table to grab her wayward son. "Let her go!" But Theran was determined, and it took Bard and Grace together to pull him off and away from Aurelan. Everyone waited nervously for her reaction, but after she wiped her mouth on her sleeve she started to giggle and then to laugh, and everyone laughed with her.

"And who does _he_ take after, my lady?" Thranduil asked drily as he turned to stare at the father.

"Thorin!" chorused his wife and friends. The dwarf king stood regally and grasped the fur lapels of his coat.

"And I'm proud of it," he said smugly. "May my son be as happy as I am," and he bowed elegantly to his wife and kissed her hand.

"What a thing to be part of, eh Tyree?" Orel said quietly. "Look at Aurie's face."

Aurelan sat next to Bard and smiled widely, looking from one to the other, hoping to find a way to join in. Grace scooped up Saraya from Thranduil and handed her to Aurelan.

"And this is Saraya," she said, "but watch out for your nose."

Thorin chuckled. "Don't be concerned, Aurelan, Saraya is an excellent judge of character and only tweaks the unworthy." Everyone laughed again, and even Tyree chuckled openly, and then dinner arrived, and dwarves unloaded serving carts full of savory dishes.

After the late meal was over, Grace asked to speak to Aurelan alone.

"I have an _interesting_ idea I'd like to share with her," she said.

* * *

Thorin sighed as he and Grace walked hand in hand to their chambers. Once inside he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. Then he ran his hands through her hair to the back of her head, and kissed her gently, his lips moving tenderly over hers. He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed deeply.

"If Saraya … if anyone ever tries to hurt her or you again Grace," he started, and his eyes darkened, "no mercy. Do you hear me? No mercy."

She looked at him and her nostrils flared.

"No one will ever get that far."

They kissed deeply and then he sat down in a chair and settled her on his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair and played with one of her long curls.

"What a day," he muttered and softly blew out his breath. He cuddled Grace and rubbed his nose against her ear and jaw. She sighed.

"Poor Aurelan," she said.

He shook his head.

"We must never pity her, my heart," he said firmly. "She will think herself despised, and that will not help her."

She nodded. "I know, but I can't help feeling sad that she went through so much."

He agreed and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Then his brows drew together.

"What exactly did you have in mind for this evening, by the way," he asked curiously. "You said it would be entertaining."

Grace grimaced and rolled her eyes.

"I didn't intend all _that_," she said as she waved her hand in the air, "I just wanted to help Bard by introducing him to someone suitable. He's been lonely. That's partly what we talked about earlier."

Thorin closed his eyes and groaned.

"I remind you about your last effort at match-making," he said, "although it seems you redeemed yourself tonight." Then he looked at her seriously. "But you must not do anything else, my heart. Bard would be offended by such interference. Men are hunters, and part of the thrill is the chase."

She smirked and played with his hair braiding it and unbraiding it. He watched her lovingly and smiled with amusement at her look of intense concentration as she tried different styles.

"Is that so, my love?" she asked while still focusing on his hair. "Were _you_ thrilled?"

He chuckled darkly.

"Almost to madness, my heart," he said. "You led me a merry chase such as dwarves have never known in our entire history. They still talk about how you brought me to my knees."

She looked at him then and grinned.

"Do they?" she asked impishly.

Thorin stilled and his face registered alarm.

"I know that look, woman," he said smiling suspiciously. "what _fiendish_ thing are you planning?"

She hopped off his lap and took his hand. He smiled widely as she led him to the bedroom.

"Nothing _fiendish_, I promise you," she said, "but I _will_ bring you to your knees."

* * *

**OK friends, so how did I do with it?**


	64. Getting Ready

**I once said that I thought my husband looked a bit like Thorin, so I posted an old picture of him on my profile to give you all a chance to agree or disagree. He's had a beard and mustache for many years (although he cut his long hair), so add that into the mix and let me know if you think I'm on to something.**

* * *

**Chapter 64: Getting Ready**

The next morning Bard honored his word and rode to Dale with the Bardone brothers, Thorin, Legolas, and Thranduil. Orel and Tyree walked by the gardens, and Orel marveled at their beauty.

"And these represent your alliances?" he asked Bard.

"Aye," he said proudly, and he turned to his friends, "and more than that they represent those closest to me." His chest swelled with contentment, and Thorin grinned in return.

"But we must invite Prince Larin here sometime soon," Legolas said with the barest hint of a smile, "since he could not come to the games on account of his father's illness. He would enjoy meeting the Bardones."

Bard's nostrils immediately flared in jealousy.

"Perhaps later," he said, "much later," he muttered under his breath, and he ushered them into the imposing city council chamber made of white granite. Flags of Erebor, Gondor, and Mirkwood hung next to a larger flag of Dale. The men began seating themselves around a large, square table made of oak. A map of Middle-earth was carved into the top.

"I didn't know you had it in you," Thorin whispered as he walked by the elf prince and took his seat. Legolas' eyes twinkled as he raised his eyebrows a fraction of an inch.

The council members filed in, and Tyree and Thorin laid out the information in their possession, which Thranduil confirmed. The council members read the letter and record, listened carefully, and without argument agreed that Ored Bardone was indeed innocent of all charges. Tyree was surprised by their careful deliberations and honest questions, and he smiled slightly after Orel elbowed him.

"What's wrong now, Tyree?" he asked impatiently. "After all these years, the Bardones are coming home. Isn't that good enough for you?"

Tyree pushed his hair away from his face and dismissed Orel's question with a shrug of one shoulder.

"Let's see how they handle my taking a position of authority over them," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "That will show who they really are and if we'll be welcome here."

Bard stood and faced the room.

"Ored Bardone's position of Lord High Steward is vacant," he said, "and I believe it is fitting to offer it to his descendant, Tyree, along with all other titles and positions accorded to members of the Bardone family. They are honorable, and their skills as fighters are sorely needed here." His eyes swept over the room fiercely, concerned about dissent, but no one spoke.

Finally, Oren, Bard's right-hand man, stood.

"I do not argue your right to this position, Tyree," he said, "nor am I resentful that you did not rebuild Dale since it would have been your death to come home, but I ask you if you want this because life here is very different from what you've known."

Tyree looked up from his place and saw the sincerity on Orem's face.

"I will do whatever is necessary for Dale and my brother and sister," he said calmly.

Oren shook his head.

"I don't doubt that," the father of three said, "but that's not what I'm asking. Dale deserves your heart, not just your hands. Do you _want_ to be here?"

At first, Tyree was speechless and then he scoffed. It was a ridiculous question. Life in a city could not possibly be as bad as living in the wild where they were always on the move and worried about hunger, cold, and violence.

Thranduil turned to Tyree.

"Do you understand what he's asking? Would you ever want your sister living under the rule of an unhappy man?"

Tyree was struck hard by that thought. Such things first seemed womanish to him, this talk of feelings, but then an old memory surfaced of the love and laughter in his house when Aurelan was a baby and he and Orel were boys. Life was good then, and he loved being home. That was what Oren meant.

"Don't forget to be happy," Tyree's father once said to him. "Find what makes you smile. Otherwise life is too hard to bear."

Bard stepped forward.

"You do not need to decide this now," he said. "Take your time, walk around the city, and get to know the people. I'm very proud of this city, and I'm sure you will be as well in time."

Oren sat down and leaned back with an easy smile. "Come over to my house and refresh yourselves before we go back to Erebor," he said genially. "I'd like you to meet my children. I've two older boys and my little girl, Dala."

Thranduil's head swiveled.

"What does she look like?" he asked intently.

Oren looked puzzled. "My lord?"

Interest in Oren's family gathered strength.

"Is it Dala as in Vondala?" Tyree asked.

Oren's mouth opened and then he pressed his lips together and frowned.

"I don't know," he said. "The member of our family who survived from Dale was a woman with a baby girl. The mother died soon after from the smoke, but the baby was given to a family that moved to Gondor."

He turned to Orel and Tyree.

"I saw your sister yesterday," he said nodding, "and now that I think on it, my Dala looks very much like her." Then he smiled with genuine delight.

"It may be that we are cousins," he said, and he turned to Bard. "I have nothing to prove it, and my family and I are content with our station, but my wife would be happy to meet kin."

Council members then crowded around the Bardones and introduced themselves and welcomed them home.

Orel bounded out of the chambers with exuberance and took a deep breath as he stepped outside.

"My home," he thought happily. "We've come home, and Aurie will be safe at last."

Tyree walked out slowly and looked at the city with appraising eyes. He had lived too long in worry to enjoy his freedom, and he stretched his neck to relieve the strain that burdened him since they came to the games.

"You carry too much, Tyree Bardone," Legolas said as he came up behind him. "Lady Grace can help you if you wish."

Tyree turned to him puzzled.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he leaned away from Legolas and raised his chin.

Legolas raised his eyebrows at the other man's suspicion.

"I believe you know that Lady Grace is a Therian," he said. Tyree nodded. "And I'm sure you've heard the stories." He nodded again more slowly.

"So she can help you feel at peace here." Legolas put his hand on Tyree's arm. "And within yourself."

* * *

Grace and Nera gathered all the woman who wanted to compete in the arm-wrestling contest. They giggled and laughed as Grace told them what she and Nera were planning.

"Oh, my lady," one dwarf woman said, "no queen has ever done anything like this. Do you think my lord will mind?"

Grace's lips twisted.

"Only if he loses," she said. The women laughed until their faces turned red, and Grace winked at them.

Aurelan stood by and watched Grace. She commanded with such ease and clearly had not only the loyalty but the love of the women though she was so young. Aurelan was intrigued.

"Come child," Grace said to Aurelan. "We have much to talk about before I get ready."

Aurelan bristled. "I'm not a child," she said hotly. "Why do you call me that, my lady, when we are the same age?" The laughter stopped, and Aurelan bit her lip realizing that she offended them all, and she cast her eyes down. The women stared at her and then shifted their feet as they waited for Grace's response. Nera shook her head in disapproval.

But the queen of Erebor smiled.

"Forgive me, my dear," she said gently. "I meant no insult, but we are not the same age. I am older that Middle-earth itself."

The dwarf women smiled and looked at Grace fondly, all knowing her heritage and what she did to fight for Erebor and return to their king.

"But, but," Aurelan spluttered looking up, "that's impossible!"

The women tittered, and Grace looked around at them with a wide smile on her face.

"Shall we show her how old I am?" she asked mischievously. The women all nodded and giggled knowing what was coming.

"Take my hand, my dear," Grace ordered. Aurelan reached out hesitantly, and they closed their eyes. Grace showed her the throne room of her father, her brothers and kin, and her creation long before Mddle-earth.

Aurelan opened her eyes in shock and stared at Grace before she dropped to her knees before her.

"Forgive me, my lady," she said humbly. "I don't know what to say. I'm overwhelmed."

Grace took her hand, and Aurelan stood.

"Yes," she said, "that usually is the word people use." The women laughed and Grace chuckled, and she turned to Aurelan who stared at her like she was an apparition.

"No, no," Grace said, "none of that." She patted Aurelan's hand gently. "We all come from somewhere, don't we? I am a Therian, but now I am queen of Erebor, and I want you to see me in that light."

"Yes, my lady," Aurelan said quickly.

"Now who wants to join in?" Grace asked, and the women all cheered.

* * *

Bard stood on the city steps with the Bardones, the council of Dale, Thorin, Legolas, and Thranduil, and in a loud, confident voice, Bard proclaimed Ored Bardone innocent before all of Dale. The people cheered loudly, relieved that blood would not be spilled in the town square.

"Now we must return to Erebor," Thorin said. "My people have waited long enough."

Once back Thorin looked for Grace, but he could not find her.

"Agathil," he asked. "Where is your mistress? She isn't with the twins in our chambers."

Agathil turned, and Thorin caught a brief flash of alarm before she faced him calmly.

"My lord," she said, "my lady is indisposed at the moment."

Thorin's eyebrows drew together.

"What do you mean 'indisposed'?" he asked. "Is she ill? Where is she?"

"Um." Agathil's eyes darted around as she tried to remember what to say. Thorin tilted his head as he watched her, and he grew worried that something was wrong.

"She is not ill, my lord," she said finally, "but it is a woman's issue, and she requested privacy for the moment."

Thorin put his hands on his hips as he considered the information.

"What kind of woman's issue?" he asked at last.

Agathil's face flushed as she tried not to look at Thorin's eyes, which were focused on her like a hawk.

"Ah, um, an issue that women understand, my lord, and some women are helping her with it now."

Thorin did not know what to do with what he was told.

"Well, please have her come see me when she is ready," he said very ill at ease.

"Aye, my lord," Agathil said with a curtsey. Thorin turned and walked back to his chambers.

Agathil laughed behind her hand as she watched him retreat down the hall.

"She will indeed."

* * *

Thorin walked out to the arena where a multitude of tables waited for the arm-wrestling tournament. Dwarves set up long tables ladened with wheels of cheese, breads, and baskets of fruit to feed the fighters, who all stayed to watch this most interesting of events. The mood was cheerful now that the stress of competition was over for most, and everyone dug into the feast.

"Well, Thorin," Bard said happily as he clapped him on the shoulder, "I think these games have been a complete success."

"Yes," he replied absently. His eyes stared unfocused, and his gaze was far away.

"What's wrong?" Bard asked, and he stooped over to look at Thorin's face.

"A 'woman's issue,' she said," he muttered to himself, "a 'woman's issue. What could that be?"

"Thorin," Bard asked, "what are you talking about?"

He looked up and Bard was surprised by the worry on his face.

"Grace has some 'woman's issue,' Agathil said. What could that be?"

Bard blanched.

"Um, I'm afraid that I don't know anything about those things, Thorin," he stammered. "Did Agathil say she was ill?"

Thorin shook his head.

"Just some woman's issue, she said."

Bard shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm sure you'll find out when she's ready to tell you," Bard said, "but you need to announce the start of the contest now. Everyone is done eating."

Thorin walked somberly to a table set atop a platform so that all could watch the first challenge. He looked over the crowd and felt at a loss without Grace by his side, but he took a deep breath and held out his arms.

"Now we come to the legendary dwarven arm-wrestling challenge," he called out in his deep baritone. "The first to challenge has the honor of sitting at this table and wrestling in view of everyone here. Do we have a challenger?"

The crowd stirred as everyone eyed each other, but no one spoke. Then a loud voice rang out for all to hear.

"I challenge Thorin Oakenshield, king of Erebor!"

* * *

**Thank you for all your lovely comments and support. Every review is much appreciated since writing is a lonely business and I'm often unsatisfied with what I've written, but I leave it for you all to decide what you think. This is a transitional chapter, so it's not as exciting as what you all know is coming. I'll write that one as soon as I can!**


	65. Challenge Match

**Chapter 65: Challenge Match**

Thorin stepped down from the platform to meet his opponent while necks craned to see the audacious fighter who dared challenge the king. Suddenly, a great shout filled the air, and men, elves, and dwarves surged forward to see who was coming. Cheers started from the front and grew louder and louder, echoing against the walls of the mountain. Such a noise had never been heard before in all the centuries of dwarven arm-wrestling. The king of Erebor looked at Bard in confusion while Balin slipped in next to his friend. They heard in the distance Thranduil's hearty laughter in the front of the crowd and Legolas cheering. Horns started blowing from Erebor as well as from those who held hunting horns, and Thorin stood completely flummoxed.

Cheering fighters and onlookers parted as dwarven soldiers marched forward and held back the roiling crowd with spears held horizontally, and down the center sauntered Grace with the women of Erebor behind her.

Thorin's eyes could not open wider. She wore a tight, sleeveless, black dress with a neckline that skimmed the top of her cleavage, and a wide black leather belt cinched her slim waist. Her hair was cut to the middle of her back and teased and backcombed into a wild, curling, golden mane. Nera and the women scattered gold dust into her hair and rubbed more on her skin, enhancing her own natural coloring. Purple eyeliner made her lilac eyes look feline, and her mouth was the color of ripe strawberries. The jewel in her forehead dazzled, and she wore a flashing diamond band on one shapely arm. Her skirt was longer in the back than in the front, and it flared occasionally giving everyone a flash of beautifully muscled calves above the black leather ankle boots she wore. She was his woman that he saw at night when her skin glowed like gold in the candlelight, but here she looked sleek and wild, and he was utterly undone.

"Just breathe laddie," Balin advised as she strode toward Thorin with provocative lift of one eyebrow and her chin held high, "breathe and stop looking like a codfish," because Thorin's mouth kept opening and closing though no sound came out.

Bard stared and chortled behind his hand, and the more he tried to stop, the harder he laughed.

"I think we found out her 'woman's issue,' Thorin," he said between snorts of laughter.

Thorin stood as still as a statue, and Grace stopped a few feet before him.

"Unmask!" she shouted, and a loud gasp arose as the dwarves saw that the soldiers were all dwarf women who had also undergone Nera's ministrations.

"My lord," she said, and she curtsied before her husband, "I believe we had a draw the last time, so I challenge you to a rematch."

Thorin looked her over slowly still not able to speak. His eyes wandered over her body with scorching heat, and he felt an almost overpowering urge to sweep her into his arms and do his own march back into Erebor and into their bedroom. His desire for her had only increased since she returned, and all who knew him knew that he could never keep his hands off of her when she was near. He was drawn to her irresistably, to hold her hand, put his arm around her waist, or place his hand against her back. Now fire raced through him, and she turned it white hot in front of a crowd knowing he could do absolutely nothing about it. When his eyes finally found hers she winked, and that broke his trance.

A slow, lazy smile made its way on his face, and the menfolk cheered. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and bowed gallantly.

"I gladly accept your challenge warrior," he said smoothly, and he shrugged off his furred overcoat and velvet doublet. He turned to Balin whose eyes twinkled merrily and then he knew that Balin had guessed.

"Fight fire with fire laddie," he said cheerfully.

Balin had suggested his clothes for the event, and now Thorin knew why. The women squealed excitedly, and Grace momentarily lost her composure. Unlike his usual tunic he wore a short-sleeve, black shirt that clung to his powerful muscles as if it had been painted on. The v-neck exposed some of his chest hair, and a small silver dagger strapped to his bulging bicep completed the picture of the dark and dangerous warlord.

Thorin stepped up to his wife with a devastating smile and kissed her hand while keeping his eyes on her face. Then he led her up the steps to catcalls and loud shouts of encouragement. Bags of coins clinked as people placed their bets.

"You have no idea what you've unleased woman," he growled to her silently.

She smirked slightly. "Oh, I believe I do. After all, I've been joined to you for some time now."

"Not like you're going to be," he said as his eyes blazed into hers.

They stepped up to the table, and Thorin seated his wife. Then he took his place and all noise ceased. Balin called for them to ready themselves. Each shifted slightly in the chairs and reached their hands across the table. Just before their hands clasped, they angled their palms slightly. Thorin found Gloin in the crowd below and glared, but he shrugged helplessly while his wife smiled smugly at Grace. Then Thorin winked at his wife and the contest began.

The shouting renewed as money changed hands, and the men hollered for Thorin while the women yelled for Grace. Balin chuckled merrily and shook his head as he looked around at the ruckus.

"My Gracie," he said fondly, "the greatest treasure of Erebor."

Thorin's company came round to witness the struggle.

"Are you going to challenge a lady, Bofur?" Balin asked. The toymaker looked uncharacteristically solemn and determined.

"Aye," he said, "I practiced with Gloin. He has a secret grip, he does."

Balin closed one eye as he squinted up at Thorin and Grace.

"Sorry, laddie," he said. "The secret is out now, but you can take some tips from your king."

Thorin and Grace fought clamped together, and his large hand gripped hers with vise-like strength. His arm muscles bulged while her toned arm shook with the strain. They stared into each others' eyes, and only a few knew that they were talking to each other.

"Minx!" he said silently. "When did you plan all this?"

She laughed. "When we rode to Dale for the market and you told me about poor Befrin and how he wore a blindfold to win his wife. It gave me an _interesting_ idea. Pity you don't have one now."

"Blindfold or wife?" Thorin asked. "I have neither, no blindfold and a temptress instead of a wife. But a blindfold wouldn't matter. Even if I couldn't see you, I could smell and feel you, and hear your beautiful voice. You intoxicate me, and I plan to get very drunk when this is over."

"Hmmm, but you _can_ see me, so what do you think?" she asked.

His eyes dropped to her luscious mouth.

"I think I ought to promote Norin for his clever wife's new notion," he said, "but you need nothing to tempt me as you well know."

"I didn't want to you get used to me," she said with a slight pout.

Thorin nearly lost the round with that comment.

"Take you for granted?" he asked. "Is that what you mean? Never! I will never take for granted your clever mind, your loving heart, and your beauty that drives me to distraction."

"But you aren't distracted now," she said as she started weakening.

"Aye," he said, "I have good reason to end this soon."

They were oblivious to the moans and groans of the crowd as their hands shifted from left to right, but finally Thorin forced her hand down to the wild cheering of the men, and he kissed her fingers. Then they stood to shake out their arms and take a short break.

"Pleasant day, my lord," Balin said to Bard.

"Aye," he replied, "although lightning struck today," and he jerked his head at Thorin and Grace.

"That it did," Balin said chuckling, and then he looked over Bard's shoulder. "Some say it never strikes twice in the same place, but I think it might today."

He smiled widely at Bard's confusion, and then Bard turned around and was struck dumb at the sight of Aurelan walking toward him with her brothers. She wore an emerald dress with bell sleeves, and Nera helped her as well with by crafting a lovely braided chignon held to the side of her long neck with emerald pins. A light dusting of chocolate eye shadow made her large eyes luminous and slightly haunted, a look that shook Bard to his core and made him break out into a light sweat. Her brothers looked very handsome in the tunics they wore last night, but Bard could only see Aurelan, and he walked toward her with a shy smile.

"Aurelan," he said softly, "you take my breath away." He bowed and she curtsied.

"Thank you, Bard," she said.

They shifted uncomfortably, clearly nervous in each other's presence. Orel looked at them and grinned while Tyree scowled. The brothers were surprised that they so soon dispensed with formal titles, Orel delightfully so and Tyree guarded and wary.

"My lord," they said and bowed while Bard nodded quickly and then turned back to Aurelan.

"May I escort you?" he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

She shook her head and nodded toward a blond man coming toward her. Bard recognized him as Sevrin, a council member. He was a good man if a bit boastful, but at that moment Bard felt crushing disappointment and could not help glaring at his new rival.

"Then perhaps this evening I may show you the city since you weren't there with your brothers this morning?" he asked with the slightest trace of desperation.

Her eyes shone softly, and she smiled. Bard found himself holding his breath.

"I would enjoy that very much, Bard," she said. Tyree stepped forward and put his hand protectively on her shoulder.

Bard exhaled in relief and took her hand and gently kissed it. Aurelan felt a shiver run through her, and she curtsied again.

"Until this evening then," he said, and he turned and walked away.

Aurelan watched him disappear into the crowd and did not notice when Sevrin stepped up to her.

"My lady," he said a tad too loudly. She stared past him at Bard's retreating back and then blinked and looked at Sevrin with a vague sense of distaste. She curtsied and he took her arm and patted it familiarly. Aurelan turned and wrinkled her nose at her brothers, and they nodded.

Orel and Tyree quickly stepped on either side of them, and Tyree smoothly diverted Sevrin's attention.

"I hear that you know much about Dale's history, Sevrin," he said with an easy smile. "Since I have not had opportunity to read the records, I'd be very interested in hearing what you think are Dale's most important historical events—other than Smaug, of course."

Tyree cleverly hit upon the man's greatest passion, and Sevrin quickly and rudely disengaged himself from Aurelan to pull Tyree aside and weary his ears with long-winded tales of Dale's greatness.

Aurelan blew a kiss to her brother in thanks, and Orel took her arm and led her away.

"He loves you with all his heart, Aurie," Orel said with an amused grin, "otherwise he'd never saddle himself with such a bore."

Aurelan looked back and shuddered.

"I should never have said yes to that man," she said, "but I didn't want to offend. How am I going to stop such men in the future? Now they'll be all around me."

Orel shrugged.

"You could always join with someone," he said puckishly, "that would stop the others."

She looked at him aghast.

"Join?" she shook her head. "Oh, no, never. I've had enough of men for several lifetimes."

Orel stopped, took her hands, and looked into her eyes.

"Aurie," he said seriously, "I won't have you thinking that way. You are a beautiful young woman with a big heart. I saw you with Prince Theran. You loved holding him—even though he was a bit, well, more than a bit forward."

She giggled.

"Takes after his father I hear," she said.

Orel shook their joined hands.

"What I mean is that you deserve to be loved by someone who knows how and to love them back," he said. "That is what we saw with Da and Mum. Now don't you want that?"

Aurelan looked down and her eyes filled with tears.

"At one time I thought so," she said sadly, "but who would want me? I'm not what men desire, and I couldn't lie to someone I loved."

Orel smiled widely.

"I know someone who doesn't care," and he led her gaze to Bard who stood watching Thorin and Grace locked in their second-round battle. Aurelan followed his eyes and blushed.

"Be honest with me, Aurie," he said. "You like him, don't you?"

She dropped her head and pulled her hands away and hugged herself. Then she looked up to see his knowing grin.

"Oh stop it, Orel," she said with exasperation. "Yes, I like him. He's kind and gentle, and he listened to everything without judging me. He knows everything, Orel, and still thinks me a lady."

He smirked.

"You are, Aurie, that never changed, but it is of no account, I suppose, that he's honorable, of noble blood, set to be king of Dale, oh, and also tall, well-muscled, and very handsome."

Aurelan swatted his arm.

"I thought men didn't notice such things of each other," she said.

"Well, we do if they are rivals, or if they're interested in our sisters,' he said with good humor, "and he is, you know."

Aurelan looked at him with a shy smile.

"Do you truly think so?" she asked with wide, innocent eyes.

"Aye," he said firmly. "He thought only of Dale at first and what his responsibility was to his people, and that was proper though misguided as we know. But he humbled himself to listen, and once he believed we were innocent he fought to clear us and keep us here."

She nodded solemnly.

"And now he wants to escort you in public and walk you around the city," he said. "I've made inquiries and, so far, you are the only woman he's ever ask to escort."

Aurelan blushed and put her hand over her mouth to stifle an excited giggle.

"What do I do, Orel?" she asked. "I'm so nervous. Aunt taught me manners, but you, you know what came later. How do I act around a king?"

Orel took her arm proudly.

"Just as you are," he said and he walked her over to Bard. "No one could want for more."

Meanwhile Grace and Thorin held each other at bay as the minutes ticked by. He was determined to end the contest as soon as possible to whisk her away, but she was just as eager to win for the women who put their faith in her.

Grace's eyes flashed down to the women who supported her and cheered her on, and she saw Aurelan walk up with Orel. Filled with determination, she renewed her strength. She closed her mind to Thorin and gathered up all the rage she felt toward the orcs and goblins during their quest, and she gritted her teeth. The crowd watched in amazement as she steadily forced Thorin's hand down. A great cheer and roar from the crowd buoyed her, and she stood up and smiled widely while Thorin stood and fumed with frustration.

Looking down at Aurelan she waved, and Bard saw her look behind him, and he turned around in delight.

"Aurelan!" he said as he moved quickly toward her. He stopped and looked around.

"Where's Sevrin?" he asked.

"Bending Tyree's ear with stories of Dale's history," Orel said wagging his eyebrows.

Bard laughed. "He is a good man, but your brother is a martyr because Sevrin has a good set of lungs."

Aurelan giggled and Bard turned to her enchanted.

"Does that mean I may escort you after all?" he asked eagerly.

She blushed.

"You may," she said, and he gently placed her hand on his arm and covered it with his other hand, and he stood taller and smiled with great satisfaction. Orel noted his tender gesture and glanced back at Tyree who stood patiently while Sevrin waved his hands demonstrating a fierce battle. Tyree caught his look and grimaced, and Orel smiled sympathetically. He walked over to rescue him.

"Excuse me, Sevrin, but I need a word with my brother," he said apologetically.

The man stopped clearly disappointed and suddenly he looked around realizing that Aurelan was gone.

"My thanks Orel," Tyree said as they walked away. "I don't know if I could have listened to much more."

"I'm happy to help brother," he replied. "So where are we on the 'who rescued who' account?"

"I think that one makes us even," Tyree said sourly.

Then he looked around him. "Where is Aurie?"

Orel smirked. "With her future husband."

Tyree's face went white, and his lip curled with rage.

"You left her alone with a man, Orel?" he said as his fists bunched. "Are you insane? Who is with her? I will kill him!"

Orel put his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"You need to stop this, Tyree," he said seriously. "We're no longer in the wild, and she is safe with Lord Bard."

"So he's interested in her, is he?" Tyree said venomously. "Well, we'll see about that."

Sitting down for their third and last round, Thorin decided to make short work of the contest. Though he did not show it, he was immensely proud of his wife and knew that her dramatic challenge and entrance and their contest brought him and Erebor tremendous honor and would never be forgotten. But at the moment, his throbbing desire overrode any other consideration, and he desperately cast about trying to think up a strategy to win quickly. They clasped hands and both kept their thoughts to themselves as they struggled.

"Unhand her!" Tyree challenged as he stood behind Bard.

Aurelan turned around in shock.

"Tyree!" she cried. "What are you doing?"

Bard's face lost all expression, and he carefully removed Aurelan's hand from his arm and put it by her side.

"I have no quarrel with you, Tyree," he said calmly. "I merely asked to escort your sister, as any honorable man would do. I have done nothing wrong."

Tyree huffed in contempt.

"Your interest in her is over, do you hear?" Tyree bit out. "Escorting her at night under the cover of darkness? Now I know what you mean by that!"

Bard's nostrils flared and his voice was low, but it vibrated with anger.

"Are you questioning my honor?" he asked as his eyes flashed.

Orel stepped in between them.

"Are you going to do this again, Tyree?" he asked sarcastically. "Do you not remember last night?"

Tyree lifted his head, but Aurelan was gone.

With tears running down her face, she pushed her way through the crowd and accidentally bumped into Legolas who steadied her.

"What is wrong, my lady?" he asked. Then he stiffened and looked around. "Did someone give you insult?"

Thranduil turned and saw the despair on her face.

"Who is it, child?" he asked gently.

She wiped her tears with her hands and shook her head with frustration.

"Your brother and Bard again, is it?" Thranduil asked. She nodded and stamped her foot in anger.

"I see," he said sternly. "I will take care of this. Come with me, child."

"No, my lord," she said desperately, "it wasn't Bard's fault. Tyree is so protective that he fears every man on my account. No one is honorable in his eyes. Bard asked to escort me around Dale this evening, and I agreed, and now that Tyree thinks Bard feels something for me he ..." and she burst into tears.

Thranduil hugged her gently while Legolas nodded thoughtfully.

"I have an idea, father," he said as he smiled.

Both Thorin and Grace were tiring but refused to give up. Finally, Thorin shoved all his determination and desire to end the contest into one mighty push and forced her hand down. The crowd erupted in cheers, and all shouted loudly knowing that both were champions and warriors of the highest order. Thorin grabbed Grace and kissed her to the hoots and whistles of the crowd, and then he helped her down the stairs. She was about to turn and wave when he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder, and marched her back to Erebor to the roar of the crowd.

"Triumph, my lord!" Balin called.

"Not yet," Thorin grumbled.

Thranduil strode through the crowd with a deep frown marring his perfect brow. The crowd parted easily before the angry Elf king while Legolas and Aurelan followed in his wake. He walked up to Bard and the two brothers and halted before them with his hands on his hips. Turning to Tyree he huffed.

"I command you to come back to Mirkwood tonight for a stay of two days. You brother is to go with you. Aurelan will stay at Erebor."

He raised his hand as Tyree began to protest.

"You are not in control here, Tyree Bardone," he said. "Either you come for two days or your sister for two weeks, and guards at my borders will stop you before you ever get close. You have much to unlearn."

Tyree raised his chin proudly.

"I am not your subject that you can force me, King Thranduil," he said coolly.

Thranduil's eyes softened as he looked at the ranger before him.

"Your sister will go willingly at this point, Tyree, and you will not be able to stop her since she is of age. This is not a punishment," he said, "but you need time to think about how you will live here. You cannot do so by insulting every honorable man in Middle-earth."

Orel tugged at Tyree's arm.

"He's right, Tyree," he said. "You go too far. What worked in the wild doesn't here."

Tyree looked then at his sister and saw her anguish, and he blinked as tears wet his eyes.

"I couldn't help myself, Aurie," he said, and he held his arms out to her.

She ran into them and he held her close.

"I know he can't make you, brother," she said whispered, "but please go with them. I want you to be happy. No one will harm me here."

Tyree's face tightened with pain.

"How can I be sure?" he asked in a choked voice as he stroked her face.

"I will take care of her," Balin piped up. He was standing not too far away and heard everything with his sharp ears.

They all turned to him, and Legolas and Thranduil smiled.

"Lord Balin," Legolas said, "well met. I recall that you watched over Lady Grace while she was on the quest with Thorin, did you not?"

"Aye," the dwarf said proudly with a wink. "Had to keep an eye on my Gracie, I did."

Then he shook his head and chuckled.

"Thorin was like a starving lad in a sweetmeat shop," he said fondly. "He loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her and, well, as you can see, she is mighty hard to resist. It was only his training as a warrior and king that kept him from going too far, especially when she loved him back, but when he weakened I was right on him. He comes from a long line of hot-blooded dwarves, you know."

"I wouldn't have guessed," Thranduil said ironically. "Well, that must have been something to see."

"Oh aye," he said happily. "Every time to he tried to sneak something past me I caught him."

Thranduil chuckled at the thought of Thorin trying to sneak something past Balin.

"I believe we found our guardian," he said.

* * *

**Finally, dear readers, I've been able to incorporate some of your suggestions. Grace rocks the biker chick look to Thorin's great surprise, and Bard loses it in front of Aurelan. What more could I do with a chapter? I think it's too soon for Aurie and Bard to get together since they've only known each other for a day. Isn't it amazing how you can lose track of time in a story? Anyway, a nice evening stroll is coming, so give me your suggestions as to what you want to see happen. **


	66. Claiming His Reward

**I promise I'll get to Bard and Aurelan's walk in the next chapter, but I had surgery yesterday so this is the best I can do. My brain is sluggish, so does Balin slow Bard down like he did Thorin, or does he get frustrated by how very careful Bard is and haul him off to tell him to speed things up? Need some help here everyone, but in the meantime, a frustrated husband deserves some alone time with his wife and children.**

* * *

**Chapter 66: Claiming His Reward**

"Put me down, Thorin!" Grace cried as he strode determinedly to Erebor. At first, she took his gesture with good humor—"Slung over like those sacks of groceries," she thought smiling—but even after everyone cheered loudly he did not put her down. As soon as he left the crowd behind, he trotted back, bouncing her very ungracefully on his shoulder.

"Thorin!" she pleaded. Instead, he increased his pace and ran with her all the way into Erebor and up the stairs to their chambers. She was certain he would collapse from the strain because his chest was heaving and his breath puffed like one of Erebor's furnaces, but she underestimated his stamina, and he gently put her down and slammed the bolt in the door. Then he put his hands on both sides of her face and wove his fingers into her glittery strands.

"I won your challenge and now I want my reward," he said roughly. He devoured her lips with fiery need and caressed her greedily. She threw her arms around his neck, and he urged her closer and pulled her thigh up against him. She nimbly wrapped her legs around his waist, and he did not stop kissing her as he walked into their private chambers with one sturdy arm supporting her weight and the other holding her head. She thought that he was walking them back to their bedroom, so she was surprised when he carefully put her down on the counter next to the wash basin. He wrung out a cloth and gently wiped the makeup off her face while cupping her cheek.

"It is not needed," he said. When he finished, he kissed her softly and then scooped her up in his arms and walked them back to their bed.

"Now I claim my prize," he said, and he did until both lay gasping. A light sheen of sweat made his skin glisten, and she wrapped part of the sheet around herself and snuggled up to him.

"Are you drunk now?" she asked as she played with his damp locks.

"Aye," he said, "too intoxicated to stand." He rolled over to face her. "Too drunk to leave this bed I think. In fact, I may have to stay here for the rest of the day and sleep this off, and I'll need someone with me to make sure I don't hurt myself."

"Hmm," she said. "I suppose it couldn't be just anyone since we wouldn't want the king to lose his dignity in front of his subjects."

"Of course not," he replied as he stroked her face and pulled her closer. "It has to be someone specially chosen." Then he stilled, and his face grew serious.

"It can only be you," he said softly, "it will always only be you." Then he took her hands and kissed them.

"There aren't words to say how much I'm in love you, Grace," he said, his voice urgent with feeling. "When I saw you coming toward me today, I couldn't believe that someone so beautiful, desirable, and wonderful was coming for me, and I would feel that way whether or not you wore Nera's face paint."

She sighed happily and stroked chest lightly.

"I want to please you, my love," she said softly, "to make you proud of us and of me. I am new to the passage of time, and it worries me. With Father, all is like one day, so we don't age or grow tired of each other, but it's different here and I don't want you to grow tired of me."

Her head dropped down on her last words, and Thorin quickly tipped her chin.

"I _am_ proud of you, my heart," he said, "but in truth I thought the same thing, that I'd soon bore your quick and lively mind. I do not forget that the scope of your mind far outpaces mine, and I wonder sometimes if I'm enough for you. I think I've always wondered that."

They looked into each other's eyes soberly and held hands.

"You are more than enough, my love," she said. "Since we both have quick and lively minds, we will never satisfy our curiosity, so perhaps exploring together will keep us from boredom."

"So where would you like to explore now?" he asked with a wicked grin.

"Agathil's chambers," she said primly

Thorin's eyes opened wide, and he spluttered in confusion.

"The twins are there," she said with a sigh. "I fed them before our match, but they should be stirring now and needing to eat again."

Thorin grimaced and kissed her nose.

"Remember my poor state, and that I'll probably need to go to bed early," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest. "Being with you always makes me thirsty for more."

They quickly washed in their pond, and Thorin silently marveled again at his wife's beauty and bearing. She was like a living Arkenstone. Suddenly, he remembered something he wanted to give her, and a soft smile touched his face.

"Grace, my heart," he said, "I'll send Agathil to help you dress while I watch the twins. I'd like you to wear something white because I have a gift for you that will need something simple."

Thorin dressed and walked into Agathil's chambers and saw her hoisting Theran out of his crib. He was sleepy but already sucking his thumb vigorously, clearly waiting for his next meal.

"I'll sit down with Theran and then you can hand me Saraya," he said smiling. "Thank you, Agathil, for watching them so long. I'm sorry you missed the challenge."

She smiled knowingly.

"Oh, I didn't miss it, my lord," she said. "I watched from the battlements with them. I got one of the guards to help me since they were all there watching anyway."

Thorin chuckled.

"How did it look from your vantage point?"

Agathil giggled.

"Like a mighty battle, my lord," she said. "Congratulations on your victory."

Thorin smiled.

"We both won," he said.

Agathil helped Grace change into a long white gown with fitted sleeves that ended in points on her wrists. The gown was a simple silk gown with a wide bateau neckline and fitted bodice and skirt, but below the small of her back, the skirt kicked out with a flair of silk that looked like the foam on waves. Grace's seamstress cleverly place hidden clasps so the front of the dress could be let down for nursing

She and Agathil walked down the hall to her chambers when they heard a growl and then a yelp. Hurrying, they opened the door to see Theran snatching fistfuls of Thorin's hair, pulling his head down, while Saraya had firm hold of his nose.

"Oh, my dears, let your poor father go!" Grace cried as she pried off Saraya's grip. Thorin then grabbed his hair out of Theran's chubby fists.

"What a battle!" he said as he rubbed his nose. "I think I'd rather face a battalion of orcs than my children when they're hungry."

"She only tweaks the unworthy you said?" Grace teased.

Once the twins ate, Thorin led his wife back to their bedroom. He looked uncertain and nervous.

"Whatever is the matter, Thorin?" she asked. "I'll be delighted with whatever you give me."

He shook his head and took her hand.

"No," he said, "no graciousness this time because I want you to truly love it. This isn't something that dwarves usually prize because it doesn't sparkle and can't be cut into facets. Some time ago a dwarf decided to mine out on the plains, and he found a stone that was unique like the Arkenstone but different. It didn't fit into our way of thinking, but I believe it was waiting for you because you are both my Arkenstone and my life."

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a package wrapped in leather.

"I set this for you," he said. He stood in front of her and took out a necklace with a thin gold chain. At the bottom was an opal the size and shape of a large egg set in a plain gold band that made the stone look like it was floating on the chain. The opal contained the green of sunlit trees when leaves wave in the wind and the blue of the sky in the morning when the sun winks at the edge of the horizon. Bands of pink and lilac heralded the bright yellow sun, and shoots of red and blue flashed over the horizon. Grace held it in her hands and tears filled her eyes as she gazed at its shimmering colors. Her husband knew her, truly knew her, and found a gift to show it.

"It's me," she said, "it's what I love," and she hugged her uncertain husband and kissed him tenderly.

"I love you, Thorin," she said. "Thank you so much. I will treasure it always."

He sighed in relief, put the necklace on her, and proudly took her hand.

"Now let's face the crowd together."

They walked out to see Balin coming toward them.

"You missed the rest of the arm-wrestling, my lord and lady," he said smiling, "but I do believe that our population will be increasing shortly, thanks to your example."

Just then Bofur passed by holding tightly to the hand of a dwarf woman with wavy brown hair and bright eyes.

"I won, my lord," he said proudly. "This is Freyda. She's a baker."

"Congratulations Freyda," Thorin said with velvety charm, "Bofur is a good man and helped reclaim Erebor."

The doughty woman bobbed her head eagerly.

"Oh, I know, my lord," she said. "If it weren't for Bofur here, you would never have crossed the Misty Mountains or made it through Goblin Town. I'm just thankful he was there to save you all."

Thorin jaw hung slack, and he turned to Bofur who rubbed the back of his head.

"And, my lady," Freyda said turning to Grace. "I'm ever so grateful that my Bofur let you win that night."

Grace gaped at her and turned to Thorin while Freyda batted her lids at her new husband.

"Because now I have my brave Bofur," she said, "and you have, well, my lord, here." She looked Thorin up and down with indifference, shrugged her shoulders, and pulled her new husband away with a flounce of her skirt.

Thorin stood with his mouth open.

"Well, she certainly put you on the day-old bread rack, laddie," Balin observed as he hooked his thumbs into his belt.

"So what else did we miss, Balin?" Grace asked.

"Did you hear what she said, Grace?" Thorin asked indignantly. "Did you see how she looked at me?"

They turned to him and Balin winked.

"To each his own, my lord," he said. Then he noticed the opal necklace.

"Aye, Thorin," he said. "It found its home at last." Thorin smiled and forgot his slight.

"Well, what else, Balin?" she pressed.

Balin pinched his nose.

"Well, Lady Aurelan was in a state after Tyree wanted to skewer Lord Bard for daring to escort her, but King Thranduil has ordered him and Orel to Mirkwood while the young lady stays at Erebor if you agree."

Thorin and Grace shared concerned glances.

"Of course, Balin," he said, "but Tyree and Bard must end this peaceably."

Grace put her hand on his sleeve.

"Perhaps I can help her," she said, "and Tyree. Maybe we should visit them in Mirkwood."

Thorin shook his head.

"But who will watch over Aurelan," he asked.

Balin grinned widely.

"I will," he said. "It's already arranged."

"Mahal, help my poor friend Bard," Thorin said with a groan.


	67. A Walk in the Park

**Hello, wonderful readers. Here's what a number of you asked for!**

* * *

**Chapter 67: A Walk in the Park**

"How much of Dale did you see at the fair?" Bard asked as he and Aurelan dismounted and handed their reins to waiting groomsmen.

"Everything and nothing," she said with a smile. "It was so busy that we just wandered, and, of course, we were careful to avoid people because we didn't want anyone noticing us."

Balin trotted up behind them on his pony and dismounted easily.

"There you go, my good man," he said cheerily and then motioned for Bard and Aurelan to walk ahead of him.

"Don't mind me," he said jauntily. "You'll never know I'm here." Then he rubbed his mouth with his fingers. "Unless you need to know, my lord," he added sternly.

Bard sighed and looked skyward while Aurelan giggled behind her hand.

"How long did you watch over Lady Grace?" he asked. Then he shook his head. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."

He was just grateful to be with Aurelan, who finally persuaded Tyree to go to Mirkwood.

* * *

"Promise me you won't walk around with him at night, Aurie," he had said. Thranduil, Legolas, and Bard withdrew, so the siblings could work their disagreement out without an audience, but they kept a watchful eye from a distance.

She shook her head.

"I won't," she said. "I'm of age now, and I trust that Bard and Lord Balin will take good care of me." Her eyes flashed at his deep frown. They fought their private battle of wills until he backed down and sighed.

"Then take this and stick it in your boot," he said as he held out a small dagger.

She scoffed.

"So I can run Bard through after he shows me the sweet shop?" she asked with her hands on her hips.

His shoulders tightened, and he wagged the dagger in front of her.

"I am willing to let you go, Aurie, but only on this condition," he said firmly.

She gritted her teeth, but Orel stepped in and put his hands on both of their arms.

"Aurie, please," he said, "you know how hard this is for him. We've never been away from each other for long since aunt died, and the few times we were, well .…" Their heads all dropped thinking about the few times Aurelan was alone and the pain she suffered because of it.

"Forgive me, Tyree," she said, and she took the dagger and slipped it into her boot. "I know you worry because you love me." She stroked his cheek, and he took her hand and held it on his heart.

"Before we did not know," he said, and his voice faltered, "and now we are sending you off knowing what _could_ happen. Please, Aurie, please be safe."

Then he turned and walked up to Bard and stared into his eyes with deadly challenge.

"You will bring her back sound, my lord," he said with a snarl, "or I will hunt you down like a dog in the street."

Thranduil and Legolas sucked in their breath at the rage in Tyree's eyes, and waited for Bard's response. Thorin and Grace walked up and stopped at his words.

"What's happening now, Legolas?" she asked silently.

"Lady Aurelan agreed to go walking tonight with Bard against her brother's wishes, and he is not taking it well," he said. Thorin held Grace's hand and heard Legolas speak in his mind as well.

They nodded and remained silent. Then Thorin looked askance at Legolas. "How long have you been talking to each other this way?" Both Legolas and Grace groaned.

Bard stood still and breathed, trying not to respond to the anger in Tyree's voice and in his own heart.

"He is hurting for her," he thought, "like a father for a daughter. I must be patient. I will be patient. She is worth this—and so is he."

Bard glanced over at Thorin and the king of Erebor nodded slightly and lifted his chin regally. Then Bard relaxed and imitated his posture.

"I will guard your sister with my life," he said to Tyree. "I cannot pretend to understand what you must have endured or be feeling now, but I swear she will not come to harm on my account."

Tyree searched Bard's eyes, and Bard held his gaze with assurance.

Then Thorin cleared his throat, and the men turned to him.

"I suggest that your night watch be doubled," he said, "and I will send some of my guards if you wish since we have many here from outside Erebor and Dale who are not leaving until tomorrow."

Thanduil agreed and offered for some of his soldiers as well to spend some time in Dale this evening.

At this, Tyree shoulders dropped.

"I thank you," he said. "I will not pretend that I am happy with Aurie out of my sight, but I am willing to go along with her wishes for now."

Thranduil stepped forward.

"And meanwhile, you both are guests of my kingdom," he said. "Shall we?" Orel hugged Aurelan quickly.

"Don't be afraid of your feelings, Aurie," he whispered in her ear, "or his."

Tyree stepped toward her as though he wanted to say something but stopped. He tried to smile but failed, pressed her hand, and walked away with Thranduil. Orel turned and winked at Aurelan, but Tyree walked away resolutely, knowing that if he looked back he would not leave.

Aurelan watched them disappear through the crowds and then wiped a tear away and hugged herself awkwardly.

"I apologize for so much fuss over a walk through your city, my lord," she said stiffly, "and I also apologize for my brother's behavior. He fears for me. When trouble first came I thought perhaps ending my life was preferable, and Tyree watched over me closely for the rest of our time together knowing that with each insult my wish to do so grew until he and Orel taught me to defend myself. Under the circumstances, I understand if you wish to withdraw your invitation."

Bard looked around and saw that Balin, Thorin, and Grace had left them alone for the time being. He approached her, but she kept her head down.

"Please look at me," he said gently, and he took her hand in both of his. She looked up startled at the loving smile on his face. His black eyes shone warmly, and she felt relief suffusing through her body.

"I thought we decided that you would call me by my name, Aurelan," he said, and he kissed her palm. "You do me great honor by agreeing to walk with me this evening, but first I think perhaps some time spent with friends would be agreeable." Then he called out to Thorin.

"My Lord Thorin, is there anything to eat around here?" he asked jokingly.

Thorin scoffed and lifted his chin proudly.

"Do you forget you are among the dwarves, my Lord Bard?" he replied with a grin.

Before long, Bard and Aurelan were seated with Thorin and Grace and his company and their families at a long table among other tables where all were invited to eat after the last events. Hungry fighters and new couples swarmed the tables loaded with meats and meat pies, more bread and wheels of cheese, and fresh fruit along with large casks of ale with a tankard for every eager hand. Loud laughter and boisterous noise surrounded them as everyone enjoyed fine food and friendships formed over the past few days.

"Well, that's when we realized that we were sitting on the goblins' front porch!" Balin said to Aurelan as he waved his arms around. The other dwarves murmured in agreement and some shook their heads at the memory as they hoisted their tankards and meat pies. Fili and Kili looked solemnly at each other, remembering the reek of the goblins and the taste of fear. Then they looked at the bounty before them, shrugged, and dove in, tossing sausages to each other and piling their plates high.

Aurelan was so engrossed in Balin's retelling of their quest that she scarcely noticed what she ate. He wove pictures in her mind of misshapen goblins herding them along rickety wood bridges to certain death.

"Oh, and is that when my Bofur saved you all from the Goblin King?" Freyda interrupted.

Another round of stifled groans made its way around the table, and Gloin glared at Bofur who shoveled in another mouthful without looking at them all. Thorin sat back with great amusement and caught Bard's eyes.

"Erm, no, my lady," Balin said as his bushy eyebrows met his hairline.

"Perhaps you should tell her what happened when we fought the wargs," Fili said.

"Or when we battled giant spiders in Mirkwood," Kili added.

"Aye," Nori said, "tell her about the dangerous trip down the river in barrels."

"We didn't go down the river in barrels," Ori whispered. Nori smirked.

"No, but we could have for all she knows," he said.

"Not to change the subject, but perhaps you should tell her how you saved Lady Grace from a band of vicious men when you were all out in the fields near Dale, Bofur, since your wife is not from around these parts and hasn't heard that story," Thorin said smiling with his ale in his hand. He took a long swig while Bard shook his head and chuckled under his breath. "Ori can help you if you've forgotten any details. It was a most dramatic rescue."

Bofur blanched, and Grace patted her husband's hand in amusement. Aurelan looked around confused.

"Oh, yes, Freyda," Grace said, "it was terrifying. Make sure that Bofur tells you everything, and especially about, well, you remember, Bofur."

He looked up and bit his lip as the others started shaking with laughter. Aurelan's expression turned to glee as she caught on.

"My lady?" he asked meekly.

Grace slid her eyes to Freyda, who made eager sounds with her breath. Thorin took Grace's hand under the table.

"Make this good, my heart," he said.

"Oh, Freyda," Grace said fanning her chest and playing the part of the helpless lady in a feathery, high-pitched voice, "I faint just thinking about it. It was too horrible to mention at the time, but you remember everything as if it just happened, don't you Bofur dear?" She said that last between her teeth, and Gloin snorted on his ale.

Fili slapped Kili's back after the latter choked on a biscuit while the others leaned forward and grinned widely, waiting for Bofur to come up with something.

Freyda bounced in her seat with excitement and turned to her husband who coughed and cleared his throat.

"Uh, um, uh, I don't think it's fit for ladies' ears," he said finally. The others exhaled in disappointment, but then Aurelan spoke up.

"I don't mind, master dwarf," she said innocently, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I would love to hear every detail about how you rescued Lady Grace. I'm sure it was most dangerous and heroic."

"I must win her," Bard thought as he watched her play into the situation. "Tonight must be perfect."

The toymaker looked from one to the other and glumly hung his head in defeat.

"Bofur, dear," Freyda said, "why don't we take a walk and you can tell me in private because I see that you are being a gentleman to worry so about Lady Grace's privacy."

He grinned widely and proudly took his wife's arm.

"Well, you see dear," he said as they walked away, "what happened was …."

Everyone at the table craned their necks to hear what he said and then they turned to look at each other.

"How did he get away with it again?" Fili asked nonplussed.

"Aye, that isn't fair at all," Kili said.

"Well," Thorin concluded, "I think we all won enough honor in these games to spare him some," and he kissed Grace's hand.

* * *

Dale seemed alive with lanterns lit in every doorway and along the streets, and the sinking sun turned the white marble and granite to gold. Aurelan's mouth dropped as her eyes lingered over the city, and she listened raptly to myriad happy voices retelling tales of victory.

"Oh Bard, it's so beautiful," she breathed. "Can this really be _my_ home?"

Bard looked down at her lovely face awash in childlike delight, and he felt a sharp pull in his gut.

"Aye," he said softly, "it _is_ your home."

"So," Balin said coming up to them, "where can we eat?"

Aurelan laughed incredulously.

"Surely, you're not still hungry, Lord Balin?" she asked. His eyebrows wagged, and he patted his stomach.

"If you recall, my lady," he said with his finger by his nose, "I was talking more than eating."

"Aye," Bard said, "off to the sweet shop then."

As he strolled with Aurelan down the streets, he pointed out items of interest: the armory, the council meeting chamber, and the homes of various government officials.

"But where do you live, Bard?" she asked. He cleared his throat and pointed to a small house. Aurelan frowned.

"That doesn't seem fitting for the king of Dale," she said as she looked askance at the small stone dwelling.

"It is suitable for the needs of one," he said uncomfortably. "I could not in good conscience take larger quarters when I knew that there were families who needed the rooms."

"But isn't there a palace of some kind?" she said.

He shook his head.

"There is room for one behind the council chambers, but I never saw the need when we started rebuilding," he said. "I was not trained as a prince and often still think myself a simple bowman. Thorin and Legolas help me greatly in matters of state, since they were both raised as royalty, but I don't think of myself that way."

She nodded her head as she thought through what he said.

"But do your people _need_ to see you that way?" she asked after a time.

He laughed. "You sound like Legolas," he said. "He and Thorin often tell me that my people need to see me take on the mantle of responsibility, that they need to see me become king to be whole again, but I find that I can't do so without a partner in my life. It's hard to feel like a king without a queen. I want what I saw Thorin do," and he described in detail Thorin's coronation and the crowning of Grace up to the time when her family arrived.

Aurelan's cheeks burned at his words, and she watched curiously as soldiers saluted Bard when they went by. Elves too nodded with their hands over their hearts. Aurelan watched the people and children in the streets make reverence to Bard without his being aware of it.

"He _is_ king," she thought, "and everybody knows it except himself."

Oren hailed Bard on the street and walked over with his family. Aurelan inhaled sharply when she saw his younger son and daughter.

"They look like me and Orel when we were younger," she said as she stared at the boy's mop of curly brown hair and Dala's large brown eyes.

"Aye, my lady," Oren said grinning, "it seems we are cousins, and this is my wife, Nan."

Aurelan gasped in delight and hugged Oren's wife. Nan was surprised but then smiled widely and stepped back holding Aurelan's hand. She had light brown hair and dark blue eyes and was pleasantly pretty.

"Oh, my lady," she said, "I can see my Dala standing there someday." She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head bemused.

The boys asked if she was the archer who tied with Lord Bard.

"Indeed she is," Bard said proudly. "She tied my black arrow."

They gushed over her victory, and then she stooped down to meet 6-year-old Dala.

"Hello Dala," she said warmly, "and what would you like to be when you grow up?"

The little girl looked at Aurelan with her own eyes, and then at her father who encouraged her to speak.

"I want to be a man," she said loudly. Oren and Nan's faces flashed with alarm, and they tried to hush their daughter, but Aurelan held up her hand.

"Why do you want to be a man, Dala?" she asked kindly. The little girl pouted and looked at her brothers.

"They get to do all the things I want to do but can't," she said pointing to them. "Why can't I ride horses and shoot arrows and fight if I'm good enough?"

Bard raised his eyebrows and gestured for Aurelan to answer her.

"I ride and shoot arrows and fight, Dala," she said, "and I'm not a man."

The girl beamed and she and Aurelan shared identical smiles. Then she threw herself into Aurelan's arms, and she stroked her head.

"It seems that we are cousins, Dala," she said, "perhaps I can teach you how to use a bow if your parents approve."

Dala nodded happily, and Oren and Nan laughed.

"We do seem to be a family of fighters," he said.

"And champion tree-trunk throwers as well," Nan said proudly, gesturing to Oren's flashing belt.

Then Balin walked up.

"Might the sweet shop be closing soon?" he persisted.

"Very well," Bard said with an amused glance at Aurelan, "this way."

They sat at the bakery, and the owners offered Bard and Aurelan honey cakes with tea.

"Everything else is a few days old, my lord, and not worth your trouble," the baker said.

"Now just a minute," Balin said. "What all do you have there? Seems a shame to get rid of fine food such as this."

So the baker and his wife loaded a large platter of leftover tarts and buns.

"Don't stint now," Balin said, "can't waste good food in trying times like these."

Bard and Aurelan looked over and laughed.

"The only thing trying will be his pony to get him home," Bard whispered as she giggled.

After they waited for Balin to finish, Bard walked with Aurelan out to the darkening park next to the square. She threw a few small coins into the fountain in the square while Bard talked about the various fountains, plants, and his favorite place to think, the elvish gazebo made to look like bending trees, and then he turned back to Aurelan and his voice died in his throat.

She stood there with her hand on her neck and naked fear on her face. She was breathing hard through her mouth and her face was pale.

"Aurelan!" Bard said, and he took her by the shoulders. "What's wrong?" He turned and looked into the darkness and protectiveness filled him.

"We need not go in there," he said. "I will take you back to Erebor if you wish."

She shook herself out of her daze and looked nervously up at Bard.

"No, forgive me," she said. "I am well. It is only a memory, and I need not be afraid of it."

Balin strode forward.

"I will see that all is well, my lady," he said with determination and before Bard could say anything, he marched into the darkness. Then they heard crashes and bangs and foxes, raccoons, and three cats scurried out of the park. Aurelan blinked and Bard shook his head.

"Shall we then, my lady," he said smiling.

Balin followed behind them as they walked though the lushly landscaped park. She smiled in delight at the banks of lilies and daisies.

"I think I like lilies and daisies best of all flowers," she said.

Bard smile warmly.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Because lilies remind me of purity and cleanness," she said softly, watching Bard carefully to see his expression. He nodded smiling. "And daisies because they are so hardy and cheerful. No matter what happens around them, they look happy and glad to be living."

"Aye, I agree," Balin said before he remembered to be silent. He walked away to inspect the rose gardens while Aurelan knelt and felt the grass with her fingers.

"May I?" she asked as she moved to take off her boots. Bard nodded happily, and Aurelan dug her toes into the thick carpet.

"To walk beside her every evening and sleep beside her every night is the dream of a lifetime," he thought. He watched her face change from nervous to enraptured at the feel of the thick grass beneath her feet, and she spread her arms and twirled like a little girl, breathing in the scented air. Bard remembered Grace twirling in her first snow and laughed at Aurelan's antics. Her dark hair came undone from the pins, and she stopped and grabbed her tresses.

"Oh! Lady Grace's pins!" she cried. Bard stooped down and picked up the glittering emeralds.

"Allow me," he said, and he carefully placed them in her hair and took her arm and led her to the elvish gazebo.

"How beautiful!" she said, and Bard drew her down on the bench next to him.

"Yes," he said as he looked into her eyes. She smiled shyly and looked around for Balin who decided to sit on a bench behind a rhododendron bush.

"Bard," she asked, "tell me about your life. What was your family like? Did you ever have someone special to come home to?"

He felt himself flush at her words and sighed.

"My parents and older brother died when orcs attacked our caravan," he said. "I was 15 years old and have been on my own ever since. But before then we were a loving family, and I have many memories of my mother cooking my favorite pies and of my father and older brother teaching me how to shoot and hunt."

"No woman?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No one ever caught my eye," he said. "I was too busy trying to survive to think of a family. It wasn't until I met Lady Grace that I realized what I was missing."

She was silent for a long time.

"You said you are friends now, but you wish differently still, don't you?" she asked, and she edged away from him.

Bard hesitated, not sure how much he could and should say.

"Not anymore, Aurelan, not since I saw you," he said. She turned to look at him, and he took her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, that he loved her, that he would give his dying breath for her, but he was afraid of scaring her and was not at all confident of her feelings toward him after knowing her for one day, one tragically wonderful day. He bent his head, unsure what to do.

Suddenly, the rhododendron bush started shaking, breaking into his melancholy thoughts.

"Excuse me, Aurelan, I'd better see what Lord Balin wants," he said, and he walked a stone's throw away to see him pacing with his hands on his hips.

"Yes, Lord Balin?" Bard asked quietly. "Is something wrong?

"Aye," he said. "Are you going to kiss her yourself, laddie, or do I need to push your heads together?"

Bard stared open-mouthed at the feisty dwarf lord.

"I beg your pardon?" he said. "You want me to kiss her?"

"No," Balin said, "_You_ want you to kiss her, so get on with it, lad!"

Bard shook his head confused.

"But I thought you came along to make sure that nothing inappropriate happened," he said.

Balin rolled his eyes.

"Aye, my lord," he said slowly as if speaking to a child. "But what is appropriate for this young woman is to be kissed by someone who loves her and get out from under the thumb of her loving but lunkhead of a brother. Now is that you, laddie, or do I need to find someone else?"

Bard stared at Balin as if he had gone mad, and the dwarf threw up his hands and started pushing him back to Aurelan.

"Don't make me shake the bush again, my lord," he said with a wag of his finger, "else I'll spell it out clear to the young lady, and you'll never live it down."

Bard left in a daze, completely dumbfounded by the turn of events, but then he smiled and trotted back to Aurelan.

"What's the matter?" she asked as she tried to spot Balin behind the bush. "What did he say to you?"

Bard shook his head and chuckled.

"Thorin will never forgive him," he muttered, and he took Aurelan's hands again.

"All is well," he said softly. "All is well because I'm with you."

Very gently he let go of her hands and ran his fingers through her black hair. He smoothed her hair away from her brow and tipped her chin and looked into her eyes. He saw her trust in him, and he lightly touched his lips to her cheek. She gasped and then sighed. Then he tilted her head back and placed his lips on hers. He cradled her head as he explored, and he felt his heart soar, but then she pushed away.

"What does this mean?" she asked him frankly. "What do you want from me?

She looked at him cautiously, her soft lips red from his passion. He stared at her desperate to kiss her again, to have her all to himself, and he knew then what he needed to do. He pushed himself off the bench and slowly dropped to his knees. She stiffened in surprise.

"No, no," she said, "you can't mean …" and she shook her head.

"I love you and want you for my wife," he said hoarsely. "I'm in love with you, Aurelan, and was from the moment I saw you."

Her face lit with joy and then suddenly grew cold.

"Am I not just a replacement for Lady Grace?" she asked in a hard voice.

Bard took a deep breath and squeezed her hands.

"No," he said. "Legolas and Lady Grace both said that I would meet someone who would complete me, and it's you, Aurelan. I've never felt this way before about anyone, including Lady Grace. Now the question is if you feel the same."

He kissed her hands and she looked down and saw this handsome, noble man-a king-asking her to open her heart to him. Her confusion overwhelmed her.

"This can't be true," she thought, "not for me." He sat back on the bench and kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek.

"Please," he said softly, "please accept me. There is no other and never will be."

Somehow he found himself with his arms wrapped tightly around her and his mouth begging hers to open so he could savor its sweetness. He moaned as her lips parted, and he lost himself to her.

Finally, she broke away breathless and hid her face on his shoulder. Both were breathing hard, and he put his arm around her to pull her to him, but she resisted and turned her head away.

She would not look at him, but he turned her to face him.

"If you will not accept me now, then please allow me to court you and win your heart, my lady," he said softly as his lips grazed her brow.

"I can't believe I let you kiss me. We only met a day ago." she said nervously. "What must you think of me?"

He chuckled and drew her to him.

"A man dying of hunger doesn't question the feast before him, nor the one dying of thirst ask if there is another stream nearby," he said. "They know what they see when they see it, and I am a man, not a boy, and I know what I see and what I want."

Then he kissed her softly.

"Aurelan," he said. "I want you. I want you enough to wait for you if need be, to wait for as long as it takes, but make no mistake, I will pursue you until you say no or Tyree kills me."

She sat quietly, trying to digest what he said. She was sure that he had forgotten her past in the heat of the moment and would realize in the morning how unfit she was for him despite Orel's enthusiasm.

"Bard, you have forgotten that I am tainted," she said softly. "I am unworthy of you and of Dale. Someone like me could never be fit to be your queen."

He grabbed her so suddenly she almost screamed and she cringed before the sudden anger on his face.

"No!" he said. "I won't have you thinking such things about yourself again."

He pulled his black tunic aside to show her a scar from an orc blade.

"I got that when we were attacked and my family was killed," he said. "Does that mean I'm not fit to be king?"

She shook her head.

"So why is it different for you?" he said as he gripped her by her elbows. "I know what many men think about women who were hurt in that way, but it's wrong, and I won't accept that reason from you, Aurelan, not now and not ever!"

Then he took her face in his hands.

"I want you with me," he said fiercely, desperate to make her understand. "I want you to be my wife, to be by my side. I want you in my bed, so that I can wake up every morning to the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in body and spirit. I want to see my babes grow inside you, and I want to live out all my days beside you, and I swear I will love you and protect you with my dying breath."

Tears sprang into her eyes, and he brushed them away with his thumbs.

"I am yours, Aurelan," he said as his own eyes watered. "I beg you. Please take me. I am lost otherwise."

She searched his eyes and tentatively touched his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

"I'm scared Bard," she said. "I feel as you do, but I'm scared."

His eyes flew opened and he pulled her into his arms.

"You love me?" he asked eagerly. "You do truly?"

She ducked her head and nodded.

Suddenly, he picked her up and swung her around.

"So you will be mine?" he asked, trying to see her face. "You'll promise and not change your mind?"

She hesitated and he put her down and took her chin in his hand.

"There isn't anything we can't overcome together, Aurelan," he said. "Let me be the one to help you face your fears."

She nodded and caught him off-guard.

"So … so does that mean you'll be mine?" he hesitated, "or does that mean you'll let me help you?" His brows pinched together. "What does that mean exactly?"

She laughed at his nervousness and decided to face forward and not look back.

"It means everything," she said, and she jumped up and kissed him. He staggered back a step and threw his arms around her.

"Aurelan, my love," he said, "you've made me so happy!"

Suddenly, the rhododendron bush shook again. She giggled and clapped her hands together and whispered in his ear. He nodded grinning, and they quietly crept around the bush behind Balin. The stout dwarf peered through the branches and then stood on his toes.

"Aye," he mumbled, "I'll have to have a look see then. Got to watch out for my girl."

He stood on the bench and put his hands on his hips.

"Where in thunder are those two?" he asked in annoyance. "Here I am telling the boy to kiss her and, by Durin, if he doesn't take her off in the dark. Well, can't have her brother running me through."

He turned and almost fell off the bench at the sight of them laughing behind him.

"Humph!" he said. "Well, are you two squared away or do you need more time?"

Bard took Aurelan's hand firmly in his own.

"No, Lord Balin," he said as they smiled at each other, "I believe we're all set."

* * *

**Now dear friends, don't leave me out twisting in the wind. You gotta tell me if this worked. It did for me!**


	68. Facing the Past

**Chapter 68: Facing the Past**

"So are you angry, my love?" Grace asked after Aurelan went to bed.

Thorin chuckled. "No, but I'm not going to let Balin know that just yet," he said. "Their circumstances are different from ours, and I'm happy for them both."

Then he turned to his wife, and his eyes twinkled.

"I think you've lost an admirer, my heart," he said as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "and I can't help but be happy about that."

Grace laughed and then grew pensive.

"Do her brothers need to know?" she said.

Thorin nuzzled her neck and put his chin on her shoulder. "Not yet, We'll give Bard and Aurelan another day of peace before uncaging the bear."

Bard woke early the next morning eager to ride to Erebor and claim his love. Aurelan slept better than she had in years and woke with a broad smile on her face. She looked through the clothes that Grace had Nera make for her and dressed quickly in a dark brown blouse and skirt. She found Thorin and Grace in the family dining room with the twins. Dwarves bustled behind them setting up trays of meats and eggs and platters of muffins and breads. Theran immediately reached out his arms for her, and she laughed and settled him on her lap. Then Fili and Kili walked in and sat of either side of her.

"So, my lady, what are your plans today?" Fili asked with a charming smile on his face. "Kili here and I would be honored to show you around Erebor."

Thorin smirked at his nephews.

"Lady Aurelan is promised to someone else today," he said, "today and, in fact, every day for the rest of her life. You're too late lads."

The brothers looked at each other in confusion.

"But uncle," Fili said, "she arrived only a few days ago."

Grace shook her head slightly at her nephews and then smiled at Aurelan.

"Good morning, my dear," Grace said, "So what are you and Bard doing today?"

Fili and Kili stared open-mouthed with dismay as Aurelan grinned. "I need to meet the council, and Bard wants to make arrangements for his coronation and our joining ceremony."

"In that order?" Thorin asked with amusement. The brothers looked at each other with chagrin.

"No," she said blushing. A sentry announced Bard, and he strode into the room eagerly, his eyes seeking her. He stopped short when he saw her with Theran on her lap and Fili and Kili on either side, and suddenly he felt an instinctive male urge to clear away all rivals.

"I want that," he thought as all saw his yearning for her, "I want to see her with my child in her arms, our child."

"Let's go, Kili," Fili said glumly. "We know that look. We've seen it often enough on uncle's face."

The young dwarves stood and bowed to Aurelan.

"Congratulations, my lady," Kili said while Fili grabbed some muffins.

"Congratulations, my lord," Fili said as they walked out. "That was fast," he muttered tartly.

Bard laughed and sat down next to her. Theran fussed angrily and swatted Bard's hands away. Then he leaned in to kiss her cheek, but the plump prince promptly stuck his arm in between them so that Bard kissed the baby's wrist instead.

"It seems the lady is already spoken for," Thorin remarked. "My son seems determined to claim her for himself."

She picked up Theran and looked into his eyes. He cooed and patted her cheeks softly.

"Now you be nice to Lord Bard," she said firmly, "or you can't sit on my lap any longer."

He patted her eyebrows, nose, and mouth happily, but when she turned to talk to Bard, Theran grabbed her head and turned it back to him.

"No, you don't, son," Thorin said, and he got up and walked over to take him, but the dwarfling grabbed her around the neck and would not let go. Bard and Thorin both tried to pry his arms off without hurting him, but Theran held fast and, finally, Grace walked around and waved a pastry in front of his nose and he reached for the treat.

"I don't want to reward him for bad behavior," Thorin said with a frown as Grace plopped their son on her lap.

"I agree," she said, "and next time we'll have a strategy to deal with him." Then she turned to Aurelan.

"He loves you fiercely, my dear," she said. "You've certainly found your place as a member of our family."

She grinned, but Bard took her hand.

"No, my family," he said as he kissed her hand in his.

Thorin and Grace smiled at each other in understanding and then turned to the happy pair.

"So, Aurelan, what can my wife and I do to help you feel comfortable here?" Thorin asked amiably as he filled his plate and gestured for them to help themselves.

Bard glanced at Aurelan's smiling face and thought about what he wanted. At first he thought to lavish her with jewels and fine clothes and build her a magnificent palace so he could show her off to the world. Her beauty and bearing though different from Grace's were marvelous in their own way, and Bard knew that the world of men would envy him and he grinned at the thought. Then he stared at Aurelan while she talked animatedly to Grace and realized that she would not be at all happy or comfortable as an object of men's desires. What was he thinking? He flushed with shame at the notion of using her to satisfy his pride. Then he thought about what she might want. She was happiest in the park where all was simple and natural, and he smiled, realizing that they thought very similarly about life when he was not trying to compete with Thorin.

"We will never rule with the pomp and opulence of Erebor," he thought, "but we will rule for the happiness of our people and ourselves, and that will be more than enough."

"Bard? Bard?"

He snapped his head up and looked around to see all staring at him.

"Are you well?" she asked as she put her hand on his arm. "You looked ill for a moment there."

He smiled quickly.

"No," he said, "I am quite well. I was just lost in thought, but now I know what I want."

He took her hand and looked at Thorin and Grace with a bright smile.

"I need some help, my friends, to build a home for us and to prepare for our joining ceremony and coronation," he said, "and if you agree, Aurelan, I'd like them both to take place in the park at the gazebo."

* * *

Bard squired his love around Dale, this time without Balin, and the couple laughed easily while drawing the stares and comments of those in the streets.

"So what endearments am I allowed, Aurelan?" Bard asked. "Your brothers call you, Aurie, but that isn't what I want to call you."

Her brow furrowed.

"So what do you want to call me?" she asked. Her large brown eyes fastened on him with curiosity, and Bard's ears reddened as he thought of what he'd like to say to her but knew was inappropriate until after they were joined and she was comfortable with intimacy.

"Something special that isn't what everyone says," he said finally. "Something that's just for us."

She pursed her lips. "Reelan or Ree?"

He chuckled.

"Aye, I like them both," he said. Then he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "But what if I don't want to use your name?" She immediately blushed.

"Um, uh, um," she stammered. He looked at her closely, concerned that he had touched a sensitive spot and rubbed her hand.

"Forgive me," he said softly. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable … Ree … but I just don't want to call you any of the obvious things that people call each other," he said. "You're too special for that."

She was surprised to see him so concerned about a trivial matter, but she realized that was partly why she liked him at first and then fell in love with him, because he was sensitive and alert to the small things that made life delightful. It was unusual for a man to care about a woman's feelings on such things and to talk about it as equals, she thought. In fact, that was what she loved about Thorin and Grace. The challenge match only confirmed what she saw from the start: two fully independent people of equally matched talents and abilities together by choice. For her it was a revelation because even with her mum and da, he was the provider and she was the woman at home and they lived out those roles without question. But Grace was a match for Thorin in every way—even in battle—and she wanted that for herself. She looked at Bard admiringly and realized that the very same was true for them: two of the finest archers in the land in love and together by choice. She took a deep breath and sighed happily.

He saw her smile and kissed her fingers.

"We don't have to decide now," he said. "It may be that we find them as we go along."

She dropped her head and giggled.

"It's impossible to shorten 'Bard,'" she said, "but I'm sure I can think of something else."

He led her to a quiet spot and took her hands and held them against his chest.

"Whatever it is for you, I want it to be something that always tells you how much I love you," he said. "You are precious to me and I want you to know that."

"Precious?" she asked, thinking out loud. "My precious?" Then she shook her head. "No, that doesn't work. In fact, it sounds a bit creepy."

He laughed. "We'll find something that suits us, but 'my precious' certainly doesn't."

After they walked around for a while, they headed walked to the council chamber where he had a meeting scheduled. Oren met them out front, and Bard told him the good news. He shook Bard's hand and hugged Aurelan delightedly and asked her to his house for tea, so she could tell his wife the details. Bard then walked inside and introduced her to the council and announced their decision to join and his decision to be crowned at last. The council members were very pleased and said it was the last step to Dale truly reestablishing itself. Sevrin looked unhappy but grudgingly realized that he lost through his own negligence and resigned himself to the matter. Then Bard kissed her hand and asked her to wait outside.

She strolled through the streets visiting the toy shop, the milliners, and the tailors. Following her nose, she inhaled the delicious smells of the bakery, sweet shop, and a small outdoor café that catered to hungry visitors and wandered over.

"Whew," she said as she caught a whiff from the stables, "maybe I won't head down there."

A number of fighters from the games recognized her and got up from their seats at the café and bowed.

"My lady," one from a group called, "we congratulate you on your win and would like to know how you achieved such a great victory."

"Aye," another said, "where'd you learn how to shoot like that?"

They approached her eagerly, meaning no harm and, at first, she was flattered by their questions and interest, but as they pressed closer, she grew nervous. She tried to smile and answer their questions, but as more men crowded around, tears threatened to fill her eyes, and she backed away, trying not to cause a scene.

"Lady Aurelan!" a loud voice called out. The crowd parted to see a determined Oren standing there. His mouth smiled but his eyes did not, and he held out his arm to her. "My lady," he said, "my wife is waiting for you."

The crowd parted good-naturedly, and she hastened to him and took his arm.

"Thank you, gentlemen, for taking such good care of her," he said affably, "but she is wanted at my house for tea with my wife. Good day."

The men bowed again and returned to their food, and Oren led her away quickly.

"Are you well, cousin?" he asked quietly. "Did anything untoward happen?"

She shook her head without saying anything, but Oren could see the tears rolling down her face, and he patted her hand with fatherly understanding.

"All will be well," he said as they stopped at the door to his house. "Come inside and catch your breath." Then he opened the door, ushered her in, and called for his wife. The house was small but charming with fresh flowers set out on the window sills and on a small entryway table. A cream wool rug covered the blue slate floor, and a brown leather sofa in the parlor with two end tables and a reading chair next to a bookcase gave the house a comfortable, scholarly air. Nan came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What is it, Oren?" she asked. Then she saw Aurelan with him and her face.

"Oh, my dear!" she cried softly. "Come in and tell me all about it!" Oren smiled as his Nan bustled her into the kitchen and clattered about putting together tea with scones and jam for her guest. Aurelan cried and told Nan her story while Oren waited just within earshot. Even though she did not share all that she had with Bard, both Nan and Oren were smart enough to understand what she left out and they were shocked at what happened to her. Oren realized then why she was so frightened by the men in the streets. He wrote a short note, found his oldest son, and took him by the shoulder.

"Sam," he said, "go to the council chambers and have this delivered to Lord Bard now."

The boy nodded and ran out the door. Then Oren walked into the kitchen, pulled up a chair, and took Aurelan's hand.

"My dear girl," he said, "we understand what happened, and I want you to know that we think you very courageous to have come through it as well as you did." His wife nodded vigorously. "Very brave," she said smiling.

"Now I see why you were so upset," he said, "but remember that they did not try to harm you. They were respectful and merely curious about your skill. You must expect that here and prepare for extra attention."

Aurelan nodded as tears flowed anew.

"I made a fool of myself back there," she blubbed, "I don't know how to act around men, and I got scared." She wanted to curl up within herself and hide like she did years earlier, but she knew that she could not do that anymore, so she stiffened her spine and sat up straight.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Nan," she said tremulously. "I'm very grateful to you both." Oren patted her hand and smiled.

"We're family after all," he said warmly.

Suddenly, the door shook with loud pounds by a desperate hand.

"And that would be my lord, I believe," Oren said smiling. He opened the door to see Bard standing there breathing heavily, clearly having run all the way from the council chambers.

"She's inside, my lord," he said as he jerked his head toward the kitchen, "and she is well." Bard made to push past him, but Oren gripped his shoulder. "Compose yourself before you see her, Bard," he warned. "Nothing happened to cause alarm except her history." Bard looked at him quickly and Oren nodded. "She told us more or less. She needs to learn how to react more normally, so you must as well to help her."

Bard straightened and caught his breath. Then he nodded at Oren and strode into the kitchen. Nan stood and curtsied and then looked him in the eye and lifted her chin. He nodded again, understanding her silent instruction.

"How are you feeling Ree?" he asked gently as he sat in front of her and took her hands in his. She raised her face, and he saw the tears tracks on her face, but she took a deep breath and tried to smile. Everything in him wanted to throw his arms around her and crush her to his chest, but he knew he had to help her be strong. Pulling her up as he stood, he asked Nan to show her where she could refresh herself.

"Then we need to go back and face them, Ree," he said. "There will always be crowds of people here, so you must learn to be comfortable among them."

She nodded, and Nan took her to the washroom.

"Well done, Bard," Oren said clapping him on the back, "spoken like a king and husband."

Bard grinned

"Are they the same?" he asked.

Oren nodded. "Yes, indeed, when done well, and when our queens help us as we support them we make a happy family."

"And kingdom," Bard added.

Both men grinned with pride as they saw their women walk back into the room.

"Just remember what I told you," Nan said to a now giggling and blushing Aurelan. "It works every time I promise you."

"Thank you, Nan," she said as she took her hand, "and you too, Oren," as she reached out for his. "I'm so grateful to have such a wonderful family here."

"And you will out there as well," Bard said. "Are you ready?" She nodded and beamed a flashing smile as they walked out the door.

"What a great king and queen they'll make," Oren noted as he stood next to the window and pulled the lace curtain back. Nan nodded as she stood beside him and watched them walk with heads held high down the street.

"And we'll be there to help," she said firmly.

Aurelan met with the men again and answered all their questions with charm and wit. Bard was extremely proud of her, and afterward they walked through the park so that she could shake off any remaining nerves.

"I don't know how Lady Grace does it," she said with frustration. "She makes it seem so effortless. No matter who's around her she handles herself perfectly."

This time, Bard drew her to him and held her close. He kissed her lingeringly but pushed away when he felt his passion building and kissed her forehead.

"Remember that she has not had your experiences," he said, "and until she left to return home for a time she had a number of unusual gifts from her people that protected her from harm."

He smoothed her hair and ran his finger and thumb on her soft ear lobe.

"Besides, you did wonderfully, Reelin," he said. "Lady Grace couldn't have done any better."

She giggled and blushed.

"Nan said to imagine them all naked," she said. "It helped."

Bard's brows furrowed at he gaped at her.

"I never would have thought of that," he said. "Then again if men thought that way about women we'd be even more nervous."

She tugged on his hands.

"Tell me more of Lady Grace's gifts," she asked eagerly, so Bard told her about Goblin Town and the men in the fields.

"She can speak to animals?" she asked breathlessly. Bard nodded.

"But do not treat her any differently, Ree," he said seriously. "We all have gifts that others may deem extraordinary—just like your shooting ability. She does not welcome special attention."

She nodded remembering Grace's words.

"I'm hungry," she said looking around. "Do you think we can eat and then meet more people?"

Bard's chest swelled at her spirit and determination.

"Aye," he said smiling. "I'd love to."

After a blissful time together, Bard rode with her back to Erebor.

"I wish you could stay in Dale," he said as they dismounted, "but perhaps the Thorin and Grace will lay an extra place for me."

They did indeed, and Bard enjoyed a fine meal with his soon-to-be wife and close friends, although Aurelan was a bit taken aback by the dwarven manners of Thorin's council members and other nobles. What her aunt taught her certainly did not cover slopping ale down one's chin, and tossing rolls into each other's mouths, but she noticed that Thorin and Grace were more refined than the others, and she followed their example.

"Thorin," Grace started, "with Erebor and Dale doing so well now, something must be done about Mirkwood."

Thorin raised his brows as he turned to her.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked. His hand stilled on his mug of ale, and he shot Bard a look that Aurelan did not understand.

"Well," Grace said, "Mirkwood needs more acres of green forest to form a bulwark against orcs and others that threaten that part of Middle-earth, so I thought …"

"Out of the question," Thorin said shortly.

"Why?" she asked, not pretending to misunderstand him. "It worked so well before, and I'm sure that it will again. I will ask Father to help it along."

Thorin shook his head vehemently. "No, Grace," he said. "You don't have the strength you used to, and this is much more than growing crops. I won't allow you to hurt yourself again."

Aurelan watched the interplay between them with confusion.

"What's going on?" she whispered. Bard sighed.

"She wants to use her powers to restore part of the forest," he replied quietly.

Her eyes grew round.

"She can do that?"

"Yes, but at great cost to her health, and Thorin is worried that it will be too much for her now. She gave up quite a bit to come back to him."

She nodded and took a deep breath as the discussion escalated into an argument.

"You will not go against me on this, Grace," Thorin said fiercely. "The answer is no!"

Grace turned to him and took his hand. The sudden silence surprised Aurelan, and she watched closely as different expressions flickered on and off their faces.

"What are they doing now?" she whispered.

Bard leaned closer and smiled at her childlike fascination. "They're talking to each other."

"I will not go against you if you still say no after you've heard me out, my love," Grace said silently, "but you haven't so I ask you to please listen to everything before you decide."

He frowned angrily.

"Why do I get the feeling that you've already readied a case for this before you mentioned it?" he grumbled.

She smiled widely remembering him chasing her through Erebor.

"Because I learned some time ago how fast your mind is and how quickly you decide things."

"Humph, and I suppose I learned to hear you out before I make a quick decision, so very well."

Thorin heard her plan and agreed that she took into account every eventuality.

"But we need to take this before your Father," he thought to her, "because we might need more than you and the elves to make this happen."

"Oh, yes," she said smirking, "we will need _everyone_ to sing." Thorin groaned at her mischievous grin.

"Thranduil will _never_ let me live this down," he grumbled.

Then he kissed her hand and turned to Bard and Aurelan only to see her looking wide-eyed at them like a small child watching fireworks for the first time.

"I think we're interesting to someone," Thorin whispered loudly to Grace. She giggled, and Aurelan realized that she was staring.

"Oh! Forgive me," she said as Thorin, Grace, and Bard started laughing. "I meant no offense. I've just never seen anything like that before. I mean, uh, well, I mean …"

"Don't fret," Grace said soothingly. "I admit I'm an oddity, but some elves can do it as well."

"That reminds me," Thorin said with a bit of heat, "how long have you and Legolas been talking that way?"

"As long as I've known him, my love," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Hmmm, the things we'd talk about, the poetry we shared .…" She winked at Aurelan as Thorin's eyes turned fierce and kissed his cheek. "Nothing of consequence, my one and only. I'm just glad he didn't try to kill me when we first met."

Then she turned to Bard and Aurelan.

"Can you both sing?" she asked.

Bard and Aurelan eyed each other.

"Aye, my lady," she said uncomfortably. "My aunt taught me how to sing, but my voice is unusual for a woman, so I don't usually sing in front of others."

"And you, Bard?"

Bard flushed red, and Thorin barked with laughter.

"Um, yes, well, I did sing as a boy, but, um, I haven't sung in, um …" he trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Perfect!" Grace said happily. "We'll need as many singers as we can get."

"Then we'll all suffer together tomorrow," Thorin said while rolling his eyes.

The next morning they set off for Mirkwood.

"What do you think your brothers' reactions will be?" Thorin asked Aurelan.

She scrunched up her face.

"Orel will be very happy for me," she said. "He's always been the cheerful, hopeful one, and he encouraged me to not be afraid of my feelings for Bard, so I'm sure he'll approve."

Then she frowned.

"I honestly don't know what Tyree will do. He's so fierce about me. He wasn't always, but with my troubles he changed and kept me close. Until we came here we slept together using our bedrolls."

Everyone's eyebrows went up at that last comment, and Bard looked at Thorin horrified while Thorin glanced at Grace.

"Did that make you feel uncomfortable at all?" she asked carefully.

"Well, it was strange at first, of course," Aurelan said easily, "but his arm around me made me feel safe."

Bard scowled as his anger flashed, but Thorin shook his head.

"I see," Grace said diplomatically. "I look forward to getting to know your brothers better. They've been though a lot."

Thorin rode closer and took her hand.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully, "but I hope it's not what we all suspect. He was so young himself when his parents died and unprepared to take a girl into the wild. Perhaps he was only doing what he knew would keep her from harm."

"I hope so," he said, "but this isn't going to make seeing them easier. Bard had no quarrel with Tyree until now."

They looked over to see Bard angrily clenching his jaw.

"If it doesn't go well, I will pull him aside and find out the truth," she said.

* * *

Aurelan shared her news.

"What?" Tyree roared.

"Yes," she said in a small voice, "Bard asked me to join with him, and I've agreed. Aren't you happy for me?"

Tyree looked up seething and without a word lunged for Bard's throat.

"You can't have her!" he yelled at the top of his voice. Orel looked on shocked and Thranduil, Legolas, and Thorin rushed to separate the two men. A sword flashed, and Tyree found himself with a blade under his chin.

"You will come with me now, Tyree Bardone, that is an order," Grace said in loud voice. "Uh, uh," she said as he reached up to push the blade away. "Now, young man, or we'll mourn your early death." She looked grim as when she faced Faldor. His scoff quickly faded when he saw her deadly intent.

"You keep her safe, Orel!" he ordered, and with a burning look at Bard, he turned and stalked away with Grace while the others tried to make sense of what just happened.

Aurelan stood shivering in shock while Orel turned wordlessly and held open his hands. He went to her and hugged her gently while her body trembled with wracking sobs. Bard put his hand on her back and looked into Orel's eyes.

"Aye," the young ranger said sadly, "I should have known this would happen. Tyree's always been too close to her, to the situation. He took it all personally, like it was his fault it all happened. It twisted something inside him, and he gave up any thought of a life of his own to keep Aurie safe. He became more and more desperate until he didn't let her out of his sight—for anything."

Legolas looked solemn while Thranduil ran his hand over his face to calm his anger. Bard let out a choked cry.

"Not for anything?" Thorin asked quietly.

Orel shook his head.

"Stop it, Orel!" Aurelan shouted as she turned away. "How dare you say such things! You make him sound indecent. He never touched me! Never!"

"But Aurie," he said, "Don't you think it strange now you couldn't even attend to private matters without him around?"

Aurelan whirled around with her fists clenched and her face filled with fury.

"You didn't find me with a noose around my neck or with blood running down my wrists! He didn't to it just to protect me from others, Orel, he did it to protect me from _myself_!"

Her brother's mouth fell open. She pulled up her sleeves to reveal thin slits on her wrists and the inside of her elbows.

"He found me," she said brokenly, and she sat down heavily on a nearby sofa. "He found me more than once. I'll never forget the look on his face the first time. He was wild, so scared, so frightened. I promised I'd never try again, but I did, and then his look changed. He looked hunted, haunted, and he refused to let me go anywhere without him. Even when I bathed he would be there turning to look over his shoulder when he didn't hear anything to make sure I didn't drown myself."

She looked up sadly at Orel who was shocked that they both hid so much from him.

"You know I hurt myself, brother," she said dejectedly, "but you never knew how often I did or how close I came to killing myself. Tyree took all of that on himself to spare you. We both did."

Orel's voice choked on his next words.

"Why, Aurie? Why all the lies? You both told me stories all these years. Didn't you trust me?"

She looked up wearily. "We needed your joy, Orel, we needed your cheerful spirit. It wasn't anything we talked about or decided together. We just need someone to keep hope alive for us." She bent her head tiredly and dropped her face into her hands. "And now it's dead."

Bard rushed to her and fell on his knees.

"No!" he said forcefully. "All will be well, Reelin, you'll see." He lifted her chin and gasped at the look on her face, the look of someone prepared for death and perhaps already dead inside, and he blanched.

"This must have been what Tyree saw," he thought as he took Aurelan by the shoulders and shook her.

"Ree! Reelin!" he said, but she had retreated far within herself and did not hear him. He looked up frantically at the others. Thanduil hastened to her and put his hand on her forehead and closed his eyes.

"It's all been too much for her," he said as his brows pinched together, "too much emotion in the past few days. I cannot reach her."

Bard looked around desperately for answers from his friends. "Orel, what worked before?"

He shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know exactly," he said with his worried eyes fixed on his sister. "Tyree would bring her back and put her to bed, and he stayed behind her with his arm around her. Sometimes he would lay there for the better part of the day until she slept it off."

Thorin raised his brows at Bard.

"Maybe that's what Orel or you should do for now," he said. "Grace could help, but she not until she deals with Tyree."

"I'll do it," Bard said firmly, and he picked her up in steady arms. She made no sound of protest and wilted in his embrace. Orel tucked her head on Bard's shoulder.

"We all love you, Aurie," he said softly, and he kissed her cheek. "Don't forget that." She did not respond.

"My lord," Bard said strongly to Thranduil, "show me where to take my wife."

* * *

**Whew! I hope this chapter isn't too much. It's a bit creepy and tangled but so is real life sometimes, and families can be quite dysfunctional-especially when dealing with crises. So what do you think should happen next, and what you do think Bard should call Aurelan when he doesn't want to use her name? I need suggestions. Please review and thank you for all your support. I am so grateful! And all will be well soon.**


	69. Learning the Truth

**The last chapter was heavy and this one is as well, but it ends on a light note as I promised. I do feel it incumbant on me as a parent though to say that if any of you, my readers, are in such a situation as Aurelan, where you are being abused in any way or if you know of anyone who is-PLEASE GET HELP, I beg you. Talk to a family member who will take you seriously and take action, or a school counselor-someone who will help you. If you are feeling sad and that life is worthless and if you are considering suicide I ask you also to seek help urgently. Like I wrote about earlier, many of these scenarios come from my life and others that I know, and I am only too well aware of the truth underlying this fantasy story. On a lighter note, the next chapter will be a triumphant celebration of life, and I hope you enjoy it. You were very quiet on the last chapter, but I hope it was only because it was serious and not because it was true for any of you. Of course, it could have been because it was written terribly, but that is another matter. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 69: Learning the Truth**

"I need to go back to her!" Tyree shouted as Grace held him at bay with her sword. "You must be bluffing," and he tried to step past her, but she jabbed the point under his chin, and he felt the trickle of blood.

"Do you doubt me now?" she said as she kept her eyes on him. He wiped the blood away and stared at her wordlessly.

"Sit," she ordered. He sat on a wooden bench and she sheathed her sword and sat beside him. "Do not move," she said. "I am just as deadly without a sword." He nodded.

"What do you want with me, my lady?" he asked. Then he snorted. "To try to convince me of Lord Bard's merits?" She shook her head and took his hand.

"Where are we?" he cried. They sat on a large, flat rock by a quiet lake. He looked around and understanding dawned.

"We're at the place you found most peaceful," she said. She looked around at the light filtering through the leaves making dappled patterns on the rocks and ground. A fishing line stuck in the ground a little ways away.

"Are we really here?" he asked softly with heartbreaking hope. She shook her head.

"You're in my mind like the elves can be," he said flatly and she nodded. "So what do you want from me then?"

"I want to know why you react so strongly to Bard," she said. "You didn't to other men, and I want to know exactly what happened to Aurelan and what your relationship is with her."

He jumped off the rock and started pacing.

"I don't have the right to share her secrets," he growled. Then he stopped. "But you can find out if you want to anyway, can't you?"

"Yes," she said, "but I'd rather you tell me, and I'll know if you tell the truth." He sighed and ran his hands over his face.

"She was always such a beautiful girl, so sweet and kind," he said softly. "We all loved her, and she was the apple of my father's eye. The last thing my father did was hand me Ored's letter and tell me to protect her and mum." A tear trickled down his cheek.

"I couldn't even do that. Just as da was handing mum over to me, the floor burned though, and I grabbed for her hand but missed."

He sighed heavily and turned away to compose himself.

"Afterward I took Aurie to the ranger camp," he said angrily. "I had her meet my hero, Ronin. He was a wanderer, not a true ranger, but he stayed at the camp and went out on patrols like the others for a time. He taught me everything I knew about surviving in the wild, and I looked up to him, almost like an older brother. He used to tell me to make the most of my opportunities. I should have known."

Grace caught a bitter note in his voice. "What did he look like?" she asked.

"Tall and dark, with long curly hair and brown eyes—a lot like Lord Bard," he bit out.

"Go on," she said quietly.

"He took such an interest in Aurie, but she stayed with us for only a short while, and then we brought her to our aunt. We visited her as often as we could, and when aunt died we brought her back to the camp. Ronin was friendly at first and I didn't catch on until I saw him sneaking over to where Aurie slept one night and pulling down her covers. Nothing happened, but I knew what he wanted, and I hauled him off into the woods with my dagger at his throat and told him that he couldn't have my sister, that I'd kill him first, but he laughed. He LAUGHED!"

Grace looked into his eyes.

"And that's what you said to Bard a little while ago."

"Aye," he said ruefully. "I guess I did. I have nothing against Lord Bard himself, well, maybe I do because I'm afraid for Aurie, but when I see him I see Ronin and that look on his face when he thought he could just take what he wanted, and my blood boils. After that, we moved from place to place to keep Aurie away from Ronin and men like him, but I failed."

She nodded. "So why do you sleep with Aurie?" He whipped around and stared at her.

"Yes," she said, "she told us."

He put his hands on his face and started shaking. Grace heard soft sobs and his face crumpled.

"Because I wanted to her to live!" he cried, "and I didn't know any other way to keep her safe. Have you ever known anyone intent on killing themselves?"

She shook her head.

"Every moment, you never know, you just never know!" he cried. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"After the worst had happened, she lay as though dead for two days," he said dully. "I found her bleeding out on the third day, and I was so scared. Then later, after another insult in another village, I noticed some rope missing. I shot an arrow through it just as she kicked over the piece of wood she was standing on. I couldn't fail again, I couldn't! Not again. Another time she said she needed some privacy for, for women's things. I followed her anyway into the woods and caught her just after she slashed her other elbow. Soon I knew that she would try after every insult or incident. Orel and I started teaching her to defend herself, but in the meantime, to keep her from killing herself at night when we were asleep, I made her lay next to me, and I stayed awake for four nights with my arm around her. Every time she thought I was asleep, I'd feel her try to slip out from underneath, but I caught her. If I hadn't she'd be dead now. I still do because I worry that bad memories will overtake her one day and she'll try again."

Grace sat quietly for some time as she thought through all that he had said. How he managed all those years without going insane she did not know, but she felt great respect for his efforts to keep his sister and brother alive and safe, and she almost talked herself out of asking what she knew she must. Only her love for the truth and for Aurelan made her push forward.

"So," she said trying to find some diplomatic way to ask an ugly question, "so there's no other reason why you slept with her at night?"

He turned around and looked at her uncomprehendingly and she knew for certain then that he was an honorable man who had done his best under unimaginable circumstances.

"What are you saying?" he asked blankly, and then horror swept over his face. "If you think … you couldn't possibly think that after everything she went through that I'd …," and he choked up unable to continue.

"No," she said with obvious relief, "but we had to make sure for her sake."

He stood before her and bowed his head.

"I respect you for that," he said. "That was not an easy question to ask, but you did it for Aurie's sake, and I understand."

Grace's eyes filled with tears, and she held out her hand to him. He took it and sat next to her. He felt her love and compassion soothe his tortured mind and memories of laughter around campfires and pride in his brother and sister replaced his remorse.

"It's time to forgive yourself, Tyree," she said as she eased his pain. "You blame yourself for too much, none of which was your fault. Let it go now and rejoice in the wonderful young woman you saved."

He sighed and nodded but then looked at her anxiously.

"Is she well?" he asked. "I know that I did not react at all well to what should have been wonderful news, and I regret that now. Lord Bard does not deserve my anger. He has acted honorably and is a worthy man."

Grace looked down.

"I don't know. We'd best get back."

They opened their eyes and he jumped up to see to his sister, but Grace refused to let him go.

"You must make peace with Bard," she warned him, and he hung his head. "He loves her deeply, Tyree, and would give his life for her as you have."

He nodded. "I know," he said, "and truth be told, I'd enjoy being an uncle and not acting as a father. I don't remember the last time I was happy, but now I have a reason to be."

Then they walked back to see about Aurelan, but Thranduil approached them with a worried frown.

"What's happened?" Grace asked apprehensively.

The elf king fixed his eyes on Tyree.

"She's lying in bed, and she doesn't respond or seem to hear us," he said. "Bard is with her." Thranduil watched Tyree carefully, wondering what he would say, but instead of anger, Tyree stood quietly.

"Take me to them," he said. "Lord Bard and I will help her together."

* * *

The door creaked open and Tyree quietly entered to see Bard lying next to Aurelan on top of the coverlet with his arm around her. She was pale, almost gray, and sweat beaded on her brow and upper lip. Orel sat in a chair by the door, his dark eyes flickering worriedly over her face. Bard braced himself for Tyree's rage, but the eldest Bardone stood there sadly and then walked over and pulled up another chair and took her limp hand in his.

"Aurie," he said, "it's Tyree, and I'm so sorry for what I said." He looked up at Bard and nodded. "I want you to know that I'm not angry that you agreed to join with Lord Bard. He's a fine man, and I'm sure he'll make you very happy. He's here with you too," and he motioned for Bard to say something.

Bard gathered his strength and tried to keep his voice even. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead while he prepared himself.

"Reelin, my beautiful lily," he said, "your brothers and I love you so much, and we want you back with us. We're all together now at last, Ree, but we need you with us. Please come back, my lily, please wake up."

Bard looked over at Tyree and raised his brows, but Tyree shrugged and shook his head. They continued to talk softly for a while, and then she started to stir.

"Aurie!" "Reelin!" All of them got up and stood by the bed. Aurelan blinked and opened her eyes slowly to see the men she loved most in the world standing before her.

"Tyree?" she asked blearily as she tried to focus on his face.

"Aye," he said softly with tears running down his cheeks. "It's over, Aurie, you can let it all go now. It's over for all of us, and now we can be happy together, and Orel and I will proudly walk you down to your husband."

Bard smiled widely with great relief and joy, and Orel beamed and squeezed her fingers. Aurelan nodded slightly, smiled, and then took a deep breath and fell into a peaceful sleep. Tyree watched her for a time but then nodded, and all of them walked out the door.

"She'll be all right now," he said to Bard and Orel. "She'll sleep for a couple of hours, but then she'll wake feeling better." He fidgeted slightly and turned to Bard.

"Forgive me, Lord Bard," he said humbly, "you did nothing wrong, but I unfairly blamed you for the actions of another, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He stuck out his hand and Bard shook it happily, but Orel looked confused.

"Ronin, Orel," Tyree said heavily, and his younger brother closed his eyes, so like Aurelan's, in pain and shook his head slowly. Brown curls fell on his forehead.

"Did he?" he asked, afraid to know the answer.

Tyree shook his head and Orel relaxed.

"You should have let me help you more, Tyree," he said firmly. "I wasn't a child, and I could have helped you and Aurie. I'm very hurt that you both left me out."

Tyree pressed his lips together.

"Forgive me, Orel," he said, "but I couldn't have both of you despairing. It would have killed me."

The younger Bardone stepped up to his brother and gripped his shoulders.

"I'm stronger than that, Tyree," he said firmly. "I always was, and you need to know that."

Tyree stared at his younger brother like he'd never seen him before. Then his shoulders sagged.

"I am sorry, Orel, you're right, I underestimated you." He glanced at Bard. "Both of you."

* * *

Thorin hugged his wife tightly when she came back and wiped the tears from her face.

"Well?" he asked worriedly, "what did you find out?"

She shook her head and waved her hand.

"He's completely honorable," she said, and Thorin, Thranduil, and Legolas all sighed audibly.

"Then why, Grace?" Thorin started.

"Because she kept trying to kill herself," she said sadly. "It was the only way he knew to keep her safe."

Thranduil glared and put his hands on his hips.

"What evil we have to contend with when innocent girls can't live in peace!" he said angrily.

Grace looked sidelong at Thorin and smiled.

"My lord, I have an idea that will give us a chance to fight back," she said, and she laid out her plans to help Mirkwood as they sat around a table.

Thranduil was amazed.

"Does such a thing exist?" he asked. Both Thorin and Legolas nodded.

"I saw it for myself, father," he said. "It was astonishing and most beautiful, the very power of life at work."

Thranduil sat back impressed.

"Will it restore my entire kingdom?" he asked hopefully.

Grace hesitated, and Thorin shook his head.

"She does this at great cost to her health, Thranduil," he said with a warning glance at his wife, "so she can only do so much."

"But," she said, "if we all join together it may spread farther, and I will ask Father for help as well."

Legolas and Thanduil sat forward eagerly.

"Would he, do you think?" Thranduil asked. A new light shone in his eyes as he thought about the oppression that he and his people felt but could not fight. Now here was an unheard-of opportunity to perhaps live as they used to, in freedom and peace.

Grace looked at Thorin questioningly and he shrugged.

"Only you can answer that, my heart," he said.

She frowned and looked around the table. Thanduil and Legolas looked so hopeful that she felt her heart sinking. It must work, she thought, it must!

"I don't know," she said, "but let's all ask together. Let's ask now."

* * *

After they came back, Legolas ventured, "It doesn't seem like there was an answer either way."

Grace smirked.

"Father doesn't usually like to give direct answers because it's too easy," she said as she grinned at Thorin.

"Aye," he grumbled, "He makes you work for it first."

Then they heard footsteps down the hall and turned to see Bard and Orel with Aurelan while Tyree walked beside them. She looked nervous and uncertain, and her eyes darted to each face to gauge their reactions.

"No pity," Thorin said in a low voice to Grace and squeezed her hand.

Legolas was the first to speak.

"Please join us, my lady," he said smoothly. "We were just going to eat something before we prepare to carry out Lady Grace's plan to help the forest. I believe you already know of it?"

She sat down hesitantly and nodded.

"I apologize for my behavior, my lord," she said softly to Thranduil. "I'm sure you were insulted by my lack of self-control."

Tyree quickly cut her off.

"No, Aurie, it was I who lacked self-control," he said, and he turned to Thranduil and Legolas, "and I ask your pardon for my behavior earlier, my lord Thranduil, and my lord Legolas."

The elves nodded regally, but Grace frowned.

"May I ask that we dispense with the lords and ladies nonsense with each other?" she requested, "since that describes all of us. I'd rather be called Grace. Otherwise, our conversations will take forever."

Everyone laughed and the melancholy dispersed. Attendants served a variety of delicacies, and they ate cheerfully. Aurelan's nervousness disappeared as everyone carried on as usual. Grace smiled affectionately at her, and Thorin winked at her and nodded. She beamed as she realized that she was fully accepted by everyone despite what happened, and her eyes shone as she watched Bard and Tyree talking easily with each other.

"Life is good after all, Aurie, isn't it," Orel said into her ear.

"Trust you to find the bright side, Orel," she said contentedly as she looked around, "but you're right."

* * *

**Please review!**


	70. All Together Now

**Here's a shorter but happier chapter. Please leave your thoughts and comments. They mean so much!**

* * *

**Chapter 70: All Together Now**

After they finished eating, Thranduil, Legolas, and Grace assembled the elves and she told them her plan and went with them to a large auditorium to teach them the words and melody of her songs while Thorin stayed behind with the others. When Thranduil was satisfied that things were progressing well, he came back to fetch the rest.

"Are you going to sing, Thorin?" Thranduil asked with a small smile playing about his mouth. He hoped to have a little harmless amusement after the heaviness and worry of the morning.

"Do you think dwarves don't?" he replied mockingly. Thranduil's smile grew wider.

"Oh, I'm sure they know many drinking and eating songs," he said with a good-humored smirk, "but this is something else entirely."

Thorin grimaced and hid the rise of his anger at what he was sure Thranduil meant as a harmless jest. He recognized the elf king's effort to shake off the day's tension and decided to play along.

"I'll leave you to decide for yourself, since Grace taught me her songs already," he said with a smile, "but since you don't know them, I suggest get back there. You don't want to be the only one off-key."

Thranduil laughed and motioned for Bard and Aurelan to go with him.

"And your brothers, of course," he said. Tyree and Orel looked at him in surprise and dismay. Bard chuckled at the befuddled looks on their faces. Tyree's serious demeanor quickly devolved into adolescent fumbling while Orel bit his lip.

"What are we supposed to do? _Sing?_" Tyree asked horrified. "We don't _sing._"

Aurelan took their hands and tugged.

"You will today," she said smiling. "Grace said we're going to need everyone."

"For what, Aurie?" Tyree asked she tugged him down the hallway. Thorin chuckled as his protests continued down the hall and then turned and found himself alone. After eating a few more scones and throwing back some ale, he decided to find them and watch.

"This should be very entertaining," he said to himself.

* * *

"Thorin! Ah, good, I could use some help," Grace said after he walked through the door. "I think the elves are ready, but the others could use more practice."

He shook his head.

"Grace, you're over-preparing," he said. "You told me that it's not the quality of the voice but the heart that makes the difference. It wouldn't do to make them self-conscious. Let's just get to it."

She stopped and smiled at her husband while the elves looked on with consternation. They expected a perfection that required many hours of practice and preparation and Thorin's correction of his wife surprised them. Surely a dwarf could not hope to understand the brilliance of a Therian, a creature of legend. She embodied the perfection they sought in both form and character, and they marveled at her beauty and bearing. Her voice was the most glorious they had ever heard, and they wept at its purity and passion. Many raised their brows, concerned that his suggestion would jeopardize their efforts, while others wondered what her response would be. Surely she would argue against his suggestion.

"You're right, of course," she said cheerfully. "Everyone outside!" and she raised her arms to shoo them outdoors.

"But, my lady," a tall elf ventured, "do you not think we need more practice?"

Thorin stayed behind to escort her and listened in, curious about her response.

"If this were a performance, then, yes," she said with an amused grin as she looked behind him to catch Thorin listening contentedly with his arms folded across his chest, "but it isn't; instead, it is a matter of heart, and the heart can disengage with repetition. King Thorin is quite correct."

The elf followed her gaze to see Thorin smiling calmly behind him.

"My lord," the elf said bowing with new respect, and he left to join his kinsmen.

"My lady," Thorin said as he offered her his arm, "may I say how very lovely you look this afternoon, and how much in love with you I am?"

She took his arm happily.

"You may," she said, and they went outside to join the others.

After gathering everyone in a semi-circle, Grace faced them and asked them to prepare themselves by thinking of those they love and what they value.

"If you can't remember the words, just sing the melody and don't be afraid to harmonize if you feel like it. Remember," she said looking at Thorin, "it's a matter of the heart."

They closed their eyes and thought about their loved ones and what they would die for, and Grace began to sing softly in a peerless mezzo soprano. Her voice caressed the notes, and tears trickled down many cheeks. Thorin took her hand, and she took Legolas', and Legolas took Thranduil's, and all down the row hands clasped.

Aurelan and the others opened their eyes and looked on as Grace sang, her voice growing in strength and power. Her forehead jewel blazed as she sang, and then Thorin joined her with a thrilling baritone that caught everyone by surprise. The two sang out as stunned looks of admiration flashed around the group. Then Thranduil and Legolas joined them with clear, marvelous tenors. Aurelan squeezed Bard's fingers in excitement and he looked down at her with a grin, and they joined in with a sonorous bass and husky alto that sounded like a haunting reed pipe. The elves sang in unison with technical perfection, and Tyree and Orel caught on and sang with all their hearts.

Grace began to glow and streams of light poured off of her and spread across the ground and through the trees. The air smelled like honeysuckle and gardenia, and Aurelan gawked in wonder even as she sang. She quickly glanced around Bard at her brothers and saw their astonishment. Waves of light and power flowed from Grace, and then all saw a darkness rising above the trees and felt a rumbling through the wood.

"Stand together!" Thorin shouted, and he continued to sing, and Grace raised her palms and pushed them forward. Suddenly, they heard the sound of a great wind though the leaves did not move, and a multitude of unearthly voices began harmonizing with her. She beamed a great smile and held up her arms with her palms facing out as she sang. Trees untwisted and stretched, reaching up with strong arms to embrace the sky, and branches sprouted healthy clumps of thick, green leaves. Tangles of ugly, gnarled vines disintegrated, and fields of purple lupines, daisies, and corn flowers replaced them. The air glowed like gold, and all felt an exhilaration they never experienced before. Finally, Thorin turned to look at her and saw her light fading. Sweat ran down her neck, and her arms trembled. He moved quickly behind her and held up her arms as she faltered.

"That's enough, my heart, that's enough," he said into her ear. She nodded and together they finished out the song. On the last note, her eyes closed, and he caught her as she fell. He swung her up in his arms and turned to face the awed crowd.

The elves stood in amazement and turned to Thorin and Grace and bowed low with their hands over their hearts. Then Bard, Legolas, Thranduil, Aurelan, and her brothers crowded around them.

"How is she?" Thranduil asked as the rest hovered in concern.

Thorin looked down and shook his head.

"She'll be well in a few days," he said roughly, "but she overdoes. This is what worried me earlier. She does not have the strength she used to and even when she did it took a day or so before she was herself again. She gives to the point of exhaustion."

Legolas shook his head.

"We did not want this," he said soberly as he gazed at her. "Thorin, we did not want her to harm herself for us."

He smiled grimly. "She would not spare herself. It is her way, and I honor it, but I worry for her all the same."

Thranduil stepped forward.

"She'll get the best of care here," he said, "but perhaps she'll draw strength from what she and her family have done," and he motioned to the woods.

The elves had spread out and begun walking through the woods, and they marveled as they watched trees and plants returning to their original state. Scouts fanned out and explored the deeper parts of the woods and found carpets of sweet-smelling grass and patches of flowers growing among tall, straight trees, and they wept for joy.

"How far does it go?" Aurelan asked breathlessly as she took off her boots and crunched her toes in the grass. Thranduil and Legolas lifted their heads and closed their eyes.

"As far as the borders of my kingdom," the elf king said softly. He shook his head in awe. "This is beyond anything I could have asked."

Thorin looked down at his wife in his arms and felt her shiver.

"The worst is coming," he said, his brow furrowing anxiously. "Grace, my heart, open your eyes and see what has happened."

She struggled to obey and finally she blinked and saw the tall trees and sunlight streaming to the forest floor.

"Well at last," she whispered. "Thank you Father." Then her body shook with fever and Thorin frowned fiercely. Thranduil took off his cream-colored silk cloak and helped Thorin wrap her in it.

"Come with me," he said, and he called to some elves. "She needs healing from exhaustion. You know what to do." They bowed and Thorin followed them to the healing rooms.

Bard took Aurelan's hand and kissed it. She had two fingers of her other hand in her mouth, and Bard smiled at her fascination.

"Amazing, is it not?" he asked with amusement. Aurelan's eyes were unblinking as she stared at the renewed forest, and she shook her head.

"I've never seen or felt anything like it in my life," she said, and she poked Tyree in the ribs. "Have you brother?"

Tyree stood still and stared unmoving at the forest before him while Orel looked around agog and waved his hands in excitement.

"No, never," he said finally. "It's heartening to know that such good exists in our world."

Bard stepped forward and put his hand on Tyree's shoulder.

"And we are all a part of it," he said smiling.

"Aye," Tyree agreed and he grinned. Then he turned and laughed at Orel's speechless amazement.

"Have you ever? I've never! Can you believe? I can't!" he said as he bounded around gesturing at the trees and grass. "Well, it's simply a miracle!"

"Aye," Bard said laughing, "that it is." He looked out over the forest and then at Aurelan and her brothers. "It is indeed."

* * *

Thorin watched over Grace while she slept, stroking her hair and running his fingers gently over her cheeks.

"My own heart," he said softly, "you've given so much today to everyone. Now what can I do for you?"

Scores of elves came to pay their respects but were firmly warned against disturbing her, so they sat quietly and watched Thorin press cool clothes against her hot forehead and listened to him hum her songs in an astoundingly rich baritone. Many were surprised by his tenderness with her. These elves were not the ones who labored at Erebor and had ample opportunity to recognize the rightness of their relationship, rather these only knew from a distance that a Therian came among them and ended up joining with Thorin Oakenshield, the last creature on Middle-earth they expected.

"Has he been here long?" an elf asked one of the healers, a comparatively short elf-woman with dark blond hair. She had watched Thorin curiously since he first brought Grace in and laid her carefully on a feather bed in one of the healing rooms. He allowed the healers to prepare herbal concoctions and mix soothing and cooling compresses, but he allowed no one else to tend her, and he kept constant vigil as the minutes and hours ticked by.

"Aye," she said quietly, "the entire time. Not once has he left her side." The elf nodded, lost in thought. Then he leaned in.

"What does she see in him, do you think?" he whispered, believing that the elegant and ethereal elves were much more suited to be the mate of a Therian than a brute of a dwarf, but the healer pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"He loves her like no other," she said softly, and he understands her like none of us can."

The elf frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "We are much closer to Therians in beauty and grace than the dwarves."

The healer smiled.

"I have learned today that there is more to life than beauty, elegance, and the delights of the mind," she said. "Did you not hear the passion in her voice when she sang or how he answered her? She is his heart and he is hers, and they love each other in a way that few of our people attain. We are so, so detached, and they are not. It seems that Therians in heart are more like dwarves than elves after all."

They watched Thorin kiss Grace's limp hand and stroke her fingers and they smiled.

"It is so, so ..." he began.

"Sweet," she said.

* * *

** BTW, has anyone seen the new movie trailer? It's a tingler. Can't wait for the movie!**


	71. Author's Note 4

Hello wonderful readers,

One of my loyal reviewers, KiliThorinGirl103, asked me an interesting question that I thought I'd put to you all. She wants to know what I think Grace and Aurelan look like based on today's actresses. I thought perhaps Annalynne Mccord, Kristen Bell, or perhaps even Amber Heard for Grace and a thinner Odette Yustman for Aurelan, but what do you all think? And what about Bard? I like Luke Evans' normal slicked back look better than the scruffy appearance he makes in the trailers. What about an older Ben Barnes or Christian Bale? And how about Tyree and Orel? Does anyone have any ideas about them? I was thinking maybe Taylor Kitsch or Channing Tatum for Tyree.

So send in your suggestions!

Best,

Lillian


	72. Looking Back and Looking Ahead

**After all the emotion I thought we'd have a little fun. Tyree needs to loosen up.**

* * *

**Chapter 72: Looking Back and Looking Ahead**

Thorin kissed Grace's hand and smoothed her hair away from her damp brow. She was still unconscious, and he could tell from the minute crease in her forehead the strain that giving put on her. As he arranged her hair on the soft pillow, he saw the thin gold chain around her neck with the opal under her bodice, and he smiled that she always wore his opal, even if it was not seen. He looked around the room of twisting grape vines and healing plants growing in plots along the walls. All the medicinal plants were grown inside the healing room so that the remedies could be made at once from freshly cut herbs.

The healer brought more cool compresses and an herbal cream in an alabaster cup. The compresses and cream smelled strongly of rosemary and mint along with something indefinably elvish.

"It will restore some of her energy, my lord," she said.

He smiled gratefully and took the cup and rubbed the cream on Grace's arms.

"I thank you," he said. The healer looked at him curiously.

"She will rest comfortably now, my lord," she said. "You may rejoin the others, and I will alert you if there is any problem."

He shook his head while keeping his eyes on Grace.

"I will not leave her," he said softly. "I will never leave her."

The intimacy of his admission surprised the healer. He spoke it without looking at her; he spoke it while gazing intently at the one he held most dear. It was almost as though he said it to himself, as if he were in a private world upon which none could intrude. The healer, for all her thousands of years, had never seen a scene as tender as this one until she remembered Thranduil and his queen. Then she understood how the two kings resolved their decades-long animosity and left quietly while shaking her head in wonder.

Thorin stroked Grace's cheeks with his fingers and sighed. He thought again of the opal and shook his head at the irony of life. Many years ago, Thror had ordered him to go on a trade mission to the Iron Hills, and as he prepared an intrepid dwarf asked permission to mine on the plains outside Erebor.

"I agree on one condition, Torfir," King Thror had said, "No large-scale mining. You must not mar the area surrounding Erebor. The lands must remain intact according to our treaty with Dale."

Torfir agreed with a bow. "I swear, my lord," he said.

Thror looked down from his throne with amusement. "I confess that I don't understand you, Torfir," he said. "With all the gold and gems we could ever want inside the mountain, what possesses you to mine blindly in an area where nothing was found?"

Torfir shrugged.

"I don't know myself, my lord," he said, "but I have a hunch that something special is out there."

The king laughingly gave his permission and in the weeks before Thorin was to leave, Torfir and a crew dug and blasted through the dirt and rock layers until they reached a seam of iridescent stone. Most of it was sandy and easily broken apart, but Torfir found several hard stones of wondrous beauty. The other dwarves scoffed at him since the rocks were light in color and did not show either the sparkle or depth of color that dwarves prefer, but Torfir polished his finds and presented them to the king.

"Ah yes," Thror said, willing to humor Torfir for his hard work, "well done, Torfir. They aren't our usual prize, but I'm sure we can make something worthy out of them."

Thorin saw the play of colors on the surface of the stones and cleared his throat.

"My lord, with your permission, I would like to have this one," he said pointing to the smallest but most brightly colored among the three.

Thror smiled at his grandson, certain that he only wanted to spare Torfir's feelings and he agreed, and Torfir puffed up his chest, grateful and excited to attract the notice and favor of the prince. Torfir was dismissed, and he walked away knowing that no one would dare mock him since the prince himself requested one of the gems.

"Well done, Thorin," Thror said jovially, "you spared Torfir's pride but gained a stone of little worth in the bargain."

Thorin smiled as he handled his gem. "I agree that it's not what we dwarves usually value, but it has a liveliness that appeals to me."

He bowed and slipped the gem into his pocket as he walked away and prepared to leave for the Iron Hills the next day. As he rode out with his escort that sunny morning, he took out the opal and watched the colors change as he tilted the stone. For some reason, the opal made him smile. It did not have the brilliance of the Arkenstone, but it shimmered as if it had captured that perfect morning of green leaves, blue sky, and bright sun.

"It is a happy stone," he thought and then grimaced at his rather unmasculine thought. "Frerin will never let me hear the end of it if I ever say such a thing out loud."

He watched the interplay of the light on its surface for a few more minutes and then slipped it contentedly back in his pocket. Shortly after he arrived home, Smaug came and he was left bereft. At the end of that terrible day, when his people gathered around him and his family, he looked to Thror and Thrain for strength and support and found none. Thror was lost to gold sickness and Thrain to shock, and the young prince found himself alone as he tried to meet the immediate and desperate needs of his suffering and now impoverished people. He withdrew after night fell and sat alone in despair, unsure of what to do or where to go, with nothing to ease his pain—no solace to be found anywhere—but he knew that he could show nothing of his grief or confusion and that he must at least appear strong and resolute before his people.

Then he felt the weight of the opal in his pocket and took it out to gaze at its beauty. The large stone shimmered and winked in the firelight, and Thorin felt his spirits lighten.

"You survived," he said to the stone. "You are my hope that our lives and home may be restored. You are my piece of Erebor." He placed it carefully in his pocket and patted it. Then he took a deep breath and walked out to face his people. Thorin often drew strength from his little piece of Erebor throughout the years until he met Grace.

"I was wrong, my heart," he whispered to her. "You are not my Arkenstone; you are my opal. Perhaps the joy in this stone kept me going until I met you, and now it's found its home at last as Balin said."

She stirred, and he moved her carefully so he could lie next to her. Then he pulled her to him and put her head on his shoulder.

"Thorin?" she asked weakly with her eyes still closed.

"Yes, my heart," he said. "I'm here with you." She nodded slightly and drifted off to sleep.

"I will always be with you."

The rest waited for Grace to recover, but after talking to the healers, Thranduil came out shaking his head.

"She needs to stay overnight," he said, "so I welcome you all as my guests for this evening."

"Can we see her?" Aurelan asked.

"Not yet," he said. "She has finally begun to sleep, so we should leave them be until nightfall."

"Them?" asked Bard. Then he chuckled. "So they couldn't get Thorin to leave could they?"

Thranduil smirked slightly and then smiled.

"No," he said, "but if it had been my wife, I wouldn't have either."

Bard took Aurelan's hand in his. "I understand completely," he said smiling as he gazed warmly at Aurelan. She blushed and ducked her head.

Then Thranduil called some elves together and gave them instructions to prepare a feast in the woods.

"We often feast in the woods, but never with such joy until now," he said, and he clapped his hands and several attendants appeared.

"Please prepare quarters for our guests and provide baths and fresh clothing for this evening," he said. The elves bowed.

"At once, my lord," they said and left.

Then the king of Mirkwood smiled.

"Please take some time to refresh yourselves," he said. "It's been an emotional day."

Orel rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

"Aye," he said, "I could use a rest myself." Tyree walked up and lightly punched his shoulder.

"Come on, brother," Tyree said in a teasing tone, "let us soak the strain of the day away."

Orel's brown eyes gleamed with the thought of a hot bath.

"Go with them please," Bard said to Aurelan. "I need to talk to King Thranduil."

Aurelan looked at him curiously but took Tyree's outstretched arm and eagerly admired the elven kingdom. She admired the delicate arching scrollwork and finely joined stone pathways. Thranduil's kingdom was one of reworking wood and stone to look like the forest. All around them trees and vines seemingly grew from the ground and were dotted with green marble leaves. Grape vines with plump amethyst grapes hung fromtrellises, and flowers composed of various gemstones grew from alabaster vases. The elves even made lifelike wooden animals with numerous stone inlays to simulate fur and facial expressions. Aurelan looked around her entranced as she walked over a narrow bridge.

"My lord," Bard began.

"Thranduil," the elf king corrected. Bard exhaled with his hands on his hips.

"Aye, that will take some getting used to," he said. "Very well, Thranduil, I would ask another favor of your kindness and that is I wish for you, Legolas, and Thorin to crown me king."

Bard's request surprised and touched Thranduil, and he recognized it as Bard's way of sealing his vow of friendship. He tilted his head as he regarded the bowman turned king. Although Bard was not raised as a noble, he thought, he was one in heart, and he bowed his head in acceptance.

"I am honored," he said, "and in return I want to help you with your joining ceremony should you wish it. I have an idea that you may find appealing," and he put his hand on Bard's back and discussed his notion as he led him away from listening ears.

Meanwhile, Aurelan soaked luxuriously in the steaming bath, a tub carved from marble and filled by a hot spring channeled through pipes that ended in a silver swan neck. An array of soaps and scented oils rested on a tray beside her, and a lovely elven shift of thin, supple linen and gown of royal blue silk hung on a small closet that held towels and other toiletries. She breathed deep of the scented oils and splashed a bit and slid beneath the water. Then she rubbed soap in her hair and oils on her skin and laughed with delight. After washing the soap thoroughly from her hair, she stepped out of the bath and wrapped a small towel around herself.

Bard walked in thinking that the beautiful chamber with colorful tapestries, sculpted wooden pillars that resembled maple trees in summer, and a large wooden sleigh bed was his for the night, and he took off his outer coat and stripped to his waist. Humming under his breath, he walked into the bathing area and stopped short when he saw Aurelan. She gasped as she looked up and saw Bard standing there in shock. He could not look away.

She stood before him with oil glistening on her sinewy arms and long, lean legs. Her hair fell over one shoulder, and Bard's gaze lingered on her neck and shoulder. He watched fascinated as a droplet of water trickled down her neck, onto her chest, and slowly made its way between the swells of her curves. He swallowed hard as the droplet disappeared down the dip of towel on her chest. In the few days since the Bardones came to Erebor, they had eaten their fill and lost their haunted, hungry look. Aurelan was still willowy, but she had filled out some with adequate food, and Bard looked raptly at the hint of swells that the towel could not cover completely.

Aurelan herself stared at Bard's muscled shoulders and arms. He had no fat on him, and her large eyes roamed over his well-defined abdomen and chest.

Finally, Bard blinked and turned away.

"Uh, I will, uh, leave you be to dress," he said with his back to her. "I'm sorry to intrude like this, Aurelan, but I thought this was my room."

She shook her head slightly to regain her bearing and stared at his back, noticing another jagged scar on his shoulder-blade. Without thinking she walked toward him and ran her fingers over the scar. He stiffened immediately and pulled away from her hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Don't, just … don't."

She recoiled and backed away.

"I'm sorry," she said with a quiver in her voice. "I meant no harm. Don't be angry with me."

Anger was the furthest thing from Bard's mind as he struggled with the shout of desire that kept him rooted in her bathroom and unable to walk away. He wanted desperately to pull the towel off of her and love her then and there, but he would not and turned instead to compose himself and gather enough strength to walk away. Then he felt her fingers on his back and his composure fled.

"I am not angry, Reelin," he said tightly, "but it is inappropriate for us to be here like this, and I want to protect your honor and my sanity."

Her brows drew together.

"Your sanity?" she asked. "I don't understand."

He balled his fists and took a deep breath.

"I don't want to alarm or frighten you, Ree, please believe me," he said slowly as he tried to slow the pounding of his heart, "but you are a very beautiful woman, and I desire you greatly, so much so that I want nothing more now than to make you my wife. However, I am also bound to protect your honor, so please help me and step away, so I can leave in peace."

She looked down and remembered that she was in a towel and nothing more, and she yelped and scrambled into the closet with her clothes.

"I'm in the closet," she said muffled by the towels on the shelves around her. "You can go now."

Bard heaved a great sigh and put his tunic back on and left the room.

"In one week," he said to himself with a scowl. "In one week, no later."

Tyree met him outside the door, and his eyes narrowed.

"That's Aurie's room," he pointed out. Bard groaned inwardly at the thought of yet another confrontation with Tyree. To Bard, their relationship, though repaired, was still fragile and he knew how his leaving her room must have appeared.

"Um, yes," he said irritably, "but I didn't know that at first. I thought it was mine."

Bard faced Tyree helplessly and then closed his eyes tight and shook his head, trying to dismiss the image of Aurelan standing there with her large brown eyes opened wide and water running down her long, bare legs. The towel dipping down to … Bard caught himself and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to push the image away.

Tyree observed Bard's agitation and calmed himself before believing the worst.

"Was she in her bath?" he asked.

Bard nodded and pressed his hands against his eyes.

Tyree cleared his throat as he held his hands behind his back so they would not strangle Bard of their own accord, but he realized by Bard's embarrassment that nothing untoward happened. In fact, Bard's struggles to put thoughts of his sister out of his mind were rather entertaining.

"So … should I ask what happened?" he inquired. Although he was fierce and absolutely lethal when provoked, he at one time also possessed a wicked sense of humor that was now resurfacing—to Bard's great disadvantage.

His future brother-in-law turned to him in great distress.

"Nothing," he said. "She was wrapped in a towel, and I had my shirt off thinking that the bath was for me."

Tyree's mouth quirked at Bard's efforts to distract himself. He paced and ran his hands through his hair and tugged on his tunic and swung his arms back and forth and rolled his shoulders.

"I expect that you did the right thing, of course," he said as his eyebrows dropped and he frowned with his hand under his nose, seemingly deep in thought. "But now that you're here I thought I should tell you that I think three months is adequate time to prepare for the joining ceremony."

Bard stopped fidgeting and turned to him in dismay.

"Three months?" he asked incredulously. His jaw hung slack.

"Oh, aye," Tyree said with a straight face, "unless you need more time. Should it be longer? Perhaps six months?"

The elder Bardone smiled innocently and his light blue eyes twinkled. With great satisfaction, he watched Bard breathe faster and grit his teeth. Orel walked up and saw the tension, but Tyree turned to him and wagged his brows.

"Well, Bard?" Tyree asked. "Is three months enough or do you need six? Of course Dale is still rebuilding and you don't have a proper home yet. Hmmm, and Aurie does deserve a proper home after all. Perhaps we should postpone the joining until all in settled in the city and you have your residence built." He threw a gleeful look to Orel who quickly caught on.

"Aye," Orel said, "We won't see out sister married without a proper home. I think a year or two ought to do it. Don't you think so, Tyree?"

The brothers watched Bard clench his fists and press his lips tightly together. He trembled with repressed emotion.

"One week," he said in a low voice. "One week!" He walked away with deliberate steps, and Tyree grabbed Orel's arm to keep him from laughing.

Bard slammed shut the door to his room and then the brothers laughed merrily.

"I'll tell you all of it later, Orel," Tyree said, "but we'd better see to Aurie. I'm afraid both of them had a bit of a shock."

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed the lighter moment. A feast is to come as well as a wedding. Maybe Bard will even sing to Aurelan. Please review!**


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